


Take a Chance

by kissmelikeapirate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Lieutenant Duckling, Lieutenant Killian, Princess Emma, enchanted forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmelikeapirate/pseuds/kissmelikeapirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan will never be the princess - or queen - Misthaven really needs. Neither will a man ever own her heart again. Guarded and proud, can a forward young Lieutenant sneak beneath her emotional walls? And more importantly, will he even want to? Lieutenant Duckling AU with a sprinkling of Pride and Prejudice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Meeting

The royal family of Misthaven were seated for breakfast when Crown Princess Emma’s father announced that an impromptu ball would take place that evening. Her ten year old brother instantly begged to be allowed to attend (“No, James, no balls til you are at least twelve,” their mother had reminded him, only to be met by a disappointed groan). Emma herself had silently eaten her apple and sighed at the prospect of further public exposure.

Yet another ball; another stream of haughty suitors. Another chance to show them all just why Princess Emma of Misthaven held the reputation as the most determined old maid this side of the Enchanted Forest. Because a princess ought to want to marry? And a princess who’d almost reached the age of thirty without even coming close to that, well, wasn’t that strange?

Not to Emma, who had long since decided that she and marriage were incompatible.

Her mother had claimed acceptance of her daughter’s feelings on the subject, but that hadn't made her any less keen to introduce her to any and every eligible man who passed through the kingdom. It had become something of a game between the courtly ladies these past few years: just how many men would the princess reject this week? 

Not that Emma cared. It wasn’t as if she was actively seeking this attention. She wished that the world could just accept that she was happy as she was.

Because she was - happy. Alone, that is.

***

The gleaming spires of Misthaven rose mightily above the early morning mist. The marble shone brightly even in the scant light the day had yet provided. It was all so familiar yet so foreign: home, but also strangely not. 

Some years had passed since Killian Jones had set foot in the land of his birth. So many events had given cause to exile from his homeland; not least the years long battle to defend the kingdom against their enemy, namely Queen Regina of the Outer Realms. Never had Killian anticipated that it would be almost half a decade before fortune saw fit to grant him passage again to Misthaven. But the war - however bitterly fought - had finally been resolved and the orders to return home had been swift. A long furlough had been promised and not before time. Many of the crew felt a fearful anticipation after so long in exile. However now as he approached its pristine shores, Killian felt no trepidation, only pride and excitement.

***

“Smile, your highness.”

Emma sighed, tossing back a quick mouthful of wine before she could snipe back at her lady in waiting. She knew Lady Ruby Lucas was merely trying to help keep up appearances, but that didn’t ease the annoyance she felt whenever she was trapped in the castle ballroom with a roomful of gawkers.

“I hate the way they look at me,” she whispered in response, wearily eying the lords and ladies who filled the room. She saw their reproachful glances and caught sight of their whispers. 

“You’re imagining it, my lady.”

And Emma wished she was. Sincerely. But she knew the way they talked and gossiped. Almost thirty and unmarried. What was wrong with the Crown Princess? Was she ill? Was there some other sinister problem? Perhaps men were not her partner of choice-

She’d heard every piece of gossip a thousand times and they still made her scream in frustration. As a lady and an heir she had little recourse. To react would be seen as unladylike and especially unfitting in her situation. Yet to say nothing may be be taken as a confirmation of any bad rumor or tall tale. So the princess sat and seethed and brooded week after week, praying for the day when her marital status would be no longer be considered interesting fodder for gossip.

Tonight the castle’s main ballroom (for there were three) had been festooned in the colours of the Misthaven flag - bolts of fine silk hung down from the rafters and the room’s many chandeliers shone with the light of a thousands lanterns. Yes, it was beautiful but nothing she hadn’t seen a hundred times so far. She sat at her table, indifferent and feigning a bored expression on her face, a tactic she had discovered lessened the likelihood of being approached by anyone other than her mother or Lady Lucas.

It had been sometime since she had taken interest in the subject or content of Misthaven’s many balls. Her parents were still youthful in their appearance and outlook and saw a courtly ball as the appropriate celebration for most royal situations. Tonight, however, the room was unusually studded with men in uniform - the cream and navy of Misthaven’s naval officers. From her place seated at the head table, Emma leaned to Ruby who sat by her side.

“What is this ball in honor of again, I forget?”

Ruby tutted audibly, perhaps an inappropriate response but Emma had known Ruby since childhood and this gave the pair a rather more flexible relationship than most in similar situations.

“The crew of the Jewel of the Realm. They were key in defeating Queen Regina’s forces in the battle that sealed our victory.”

“Oh,” Emma sighed, nodding and recognizing a vague memory of her father talking of such matters after breakfast. Of course she knew of the final battle that had been brutally fought and the ensuing celebrations that had gripped the capital a month earlier. And she instantly felt some guilt that she had not paid attention when her father had explained the purpose of the ball, instead she had been too wrapped up in her own brooding.

You see, it wasn’t that Emma had no interest in such matters. She did. Misthaven was her home. She was a proud daughter of a kingdom that had held fast against the darker realms and and protected its weaker neighbours in time of need. Her detachment from the day to day details of the kingdom had came as a result of much more personal needs.

It had been some time since she had decided she was as unsuitable an heir as there could be. She was too damaged; too soiled by hurt to be able to weather the storms that a ruler must be able to. And it was barely less time since her younger brother had been born and taken away the burden. She had known as she watched him grow into a stout toddler and then charming little boy that when the time came, she would best serve her kingdom by passing on the crown to him. 

She wasn’t a ruler. She wasn’t a queen.

She wasn’t anything.

Emma was roused from her thoughts by the sound of a trumpet fanfare. To her left, she saw her father rise from his seat beside her mother. 

“My lords, ladies, I take honor in welcoming you to this most proud occasion: the celebration of our final victory against forces whom have plagued our realm for almost this past decade. Without these men who currently dine with us, there may have no longer been a kingdom of Misthaven for us to cherish.”

Rapturous applause filled the stone walled room. Emma sat straighter in her chair and took a sip of wine. She had heard her father give variations of this speech many a time but his sincerity never slipped. Perhaps today though even she could acknowledge that this occasion was unique.

“As such, I’d like to welcome forth the brave officers of The Jewel of the Realm.”

From the tables scattered across the room, the naval offices rose in their seats and congregated at the rear or the room, forming a double line of men as they began to advance down the aisle laid out between the tables. They were led by their captain - identifiable by the polished epaulettes at his shoulders and the tricorn hat under his arm. The princess vaguely recognized him from some other occasion and her memory rendered him pleasant and gentile enough. Beside him was a younger man, darker in hair and skin, tall and confident looking. There was a familiarity there that she could not place. She felt like she knew him somehow, although she was certain they had not met. Emma tilted her head as she searched for a recollection of this man, but could find none. Instead, as they approached the royal party, she gave herself leave to let her eyes linger on his admittedly fine form, as good a distraction as any from the proceedings.

Across the hall, the officers marched slowly and proudly as the orchestra played a patriotic tune.

“Nervous?” teased captain Liam Jones as he sensed his brother walking beside him.

“Hardly,” whispered Killian, first officer and brother of said captain. “It has been many years since the thought of a meeting the King brought me fear.”

“Ah, but you have yet to meet the Princess, she can strike fear into any a man’s heart.”

Killian had heard of the princess of course, as a citizen of the realm he could hardly be forgiven for a lack of knowledge of his royal rulers, even if his arose from idle tavern gossip. She was known to be stunningly beautiful, with hair like pure sunshine and a pair of eyes that seemed to hold the mysteries of the universe (or so they said).

“Well worry not, brother, I guard my heart as fiercely as I guard the Jewel.”

“Captain,” King David nodded as they reached the royal family at the head of the hall. Killian and the rest of the crew bowed solemnly. “The kingdom welcomes you and your crew.”

“On behalf of the crew may I thank you for this honor.” Liam bowed again before glancing to Killian who stood at his righ. “Your highness, may I present my brother, Lt. Killian Jones. Without his navigation and tactical skills we could never have succeeded in our endeavours.”

The king smiled at the lieutenant, “Officer Jones, our nation is forever in your debt. I’d like to extend whatever courtesies the kingdom may offer while you are on shore leave. Brave men such as yourself are this realm’s lifeblood.”

Killian bowed, feeling himself blush - just a little - at the king’s words. He never courted attention as an officer but merely wanted to do his duty to the best of his ability. 

As he rose he became acutely aware of another set of eyes trained upon him. Glancing to the king’s side, he locked gaze with the infamous Crown Princess. For a second, he forgot himself. The stories of her beauty had not been exaggerated and the bright light of the ballroom lit up her earthy green eyes as they widened in surprise. But behind the green he saw an unexpected pain that intrigued him greatly. Killian blinked quickly and offered the king a small smile in response, mumbling out a reply of thanks as his head span at the sight of those fine eyes and the beautiful face which held them.

Emma had been shocked when he had looked at her. She was merely examining the officer, curious if he was as uptight and straight-laced as she expected, or maybe he was one of the wild ones whom she heard liked to frequent the bawdier taverns when ashore. But then he’d looked up and all she could see or think about was his too-blue eyes and the strange tug in her gut that accompanied the unexpected sensation of the first inklings of attraction.

So of course she immediately scowled and looked away. Pursing her lips, she shoved her hands into her lap, resting them on the soft pink silk of her dress and reminding herself once more why she steered clear of the male kind. They brought nothing but heartache, pain and sorrow. As a result, she’d became quite adept at suffocating any small attraction she felt over the past few years, in fact she prided herself on the skill.

The remaining officers trailed past her father, nodding and bowing and taking an age to make their way along the procession. Emma could only wish the time away as she sat politely gazing across the men (and trying to banish thoughts of the officer with the too-blue eyes). 

Finally the formalities were completed and King David ordered the orchestra to strike up for the first dance. This was the portion of the evening that Emma loathed most distinctly.

“Are you going to dance tonight, my lady?” Lady Lucas asked her when she finally let herself relax a little in her seat.

In reply Emma huffed and tossed her oldest friend a glance, “You know I hate dancing,” she replied.

Ruby smiled, her scarlet hued lips rising into an amused smile. “I barely think you have indulged enough in the activity to hate it.”

“Red, you know I despise dancing - especially with people I don’t know.”

Her friend laughed softly, “And I think you like to pretend you are shy but in reality are anything but.”

Their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Dr. Whale, the king’s new private physician who requested the first dance with Lady Lucas. Ruby was about to decline when Emma took her hand and held it out to the doctor. “Go, dance. Enjoy the evening. I can sit on my own without problem.”

Flashing a thankful smile Ruby took the doctor’s hand and made her way in the the assembled group of dancers. Emma watched her friend leave with at least a small amount of jealousy panging in her heart. She wished her friend well and she knew that Dr. Whale was rather enamoured with her. The princess’s own state of confirmed spinsterhood should not condemn others to the same fate, she thought wryly as she continued to watch the crowd, glad that their attention was now taken by the dance rather than herself.

That is until she saw the same too-blue pair of eyes from just minutes earlier trained on her from across the room. The same little tug she felt before overcame her and she blushed furiously but was unable to look away until the officer’s attentions were drawn away by the young Captain who was by his side. Emma quickly dropped her eyes and picked up her goblet of wine, hiding her discomfort in its contents.

At the other end of the ballroom, Killian was lost for a moment in thought over just what had created that expression of weariness in the princess’s eyes. Surely royalty lived a charmed life, yet she seemed to wear the weight of the world behind that beautiful green shade.

“Brother,” Liam said nudging him in the side and startling him, “Wake up.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking. Are we to dance?”

“Not quite enough ladies yet, Killian, a boatful of naval men will put paid to that in a ballroom. I’d say we shall have to wait until at least the next. Let us take a turn about the room, shall we? I see a few familiar faces I’d like to greet.”

Nodding his acceptance, the two took a goblet of wine each from a passing waiter and began to make their way to the head of the room. Killian was unable to see the princess as they walked through the mingling guests, resulting in his curiosity growing by the second.

“So, dear brother, what do you know of our royal family?”

“You never did pay much attention to the court, did you?”

“You can hardly blame me when my entire career - these past ten years -have been spent with barely a week’s furlough in our home kingdom.”

“The life of a sailor is a difficult one, Killian. But you know how grateful the King is for our sacrifice, and now with the Queen’s defeat I’d say we will be spending more time on closer shores.”

The thought of being closer to home was certainly appealing. After being raised as young boys not far from the castle, they’d been not yet in their teens when their father had taken them with him on his travels over the ocean before he finally abandoned them many leagues from home. It had taken years of toil and the eventual enrollment of Liam in the kingdom’s navy for the chance to return home to present itself, not that a naval officer spent much time on dry land. And after a few years working as a cabin lad, Killian had joined his brother in service. They had known nothing but a life on the sea for so long.

“But to answer your question, here in the kingdom the king and queen are venerated as kind and generous to their people. You yourself have seen the strict rules about the treatment of the enemy during war time.”

“And the heirs?”

He heard his brother chuckle beside him, “I’d take it by that you mean the princess?”

Killian gave his agreement with his silence.

“Well, I know only a little. She is unmarried and has not been courted for some time. There was talk of someone many years ago - a son of a duke or some such - but nothing since then. She is generally thought to be quite brusque and with those below her station.”

“Hmm,” Killian sighed, feeling none the wiser about this royal enigma. “I’d say that’s her prerogative.”

Liam paused, nodding a greeting to someone across the room. 

“Perhaps,” he nodded and Killian took the conversation to be at an end when they were joined by a general wearing Arendelle’s naval uniform.

***

Four dances in and Emma was still nursing her glass of wine. Ruby had returned to her side after three and was persisting in her attempts to get the princess to join in.

“Come now your highness, you know women are in short supply.”

Emma scoffed.

“Don’t our brave officers deserve the honor?”

The princess gave her friend a pointed look. “Your attempts will not work. It is not my job to bestow royal consequence on every sailor in uniform who crosses the threshold of the ballroom.”

“And if I were suggesting you dance with every crewman I could understand your disdain. But perhaps dance with the captain? Or at least his lieutenant? It doesn’t hurt that he is very handsome.”

Emma felt a flush rise on her cheeks again at the mention of the man with the too-blue eyes who she had caught staring at her more than once.

“Look,” Ruby continued with a whisper, “See, they are standing mere feet away from us, I can arrange an introduction-”

Emma took hold of her friend’s arm before she could rise.

“No,” Emma spat, “You are wasting your time Ruby. I have no intention of dancing with any man in this room tonight, least of all the lieutenant.”

In front of the royal table, Killian felt his ears burn as the words of the princess reached him. Yes, he was supposed to be listening to Admiral Taylor drone on about future peacekeeping activities, but when he had realized that he was close enough to eavesdrop on the princess’s tete-a-tete he hadn’t been able to resist. In fact he had been quite hopeful when the lady in waiting had suggested him as a dancing partner. Only to feel a scowl forming when she had dashed his chances with her icy words.

“Now then,” came the brusque voice of Admiral Taylor, “Have you two boys danced?”

“Not yet, as you can see the number of ladies is not quite adequate for our ranks this evening,” Liam answered, giving Killian time to settle his expression after what he had overheard.

“Nonsense,” boomed the admiral, who immediately began to peer around the room. “Look, our very own Crown Princess is unattended.” He turned to face the royal before either Killian or Liam could reply. “My lady, do you wish to dance?”

Emma felt as surprised by the address as one could be after her previous words with Lady Lucas. She searched for the something to reply to let the old admiral down gently - he was after all, a good friend of her father. But before she could, he continued, “You would do the navy a great honor by dancing with one of the fine Jones brothers, both outstanding officers may I tell you.”

This time it was the younger brother who managed to speak first, “Sir, I assure you we do not wish to inconvenience the lady.” And with that, he shot Emma a quick glance that bordered on reproachful and she felt a pang of shame - had he heard what she had said to Ruby? Quickly she brushed that moment of feeling aside and schooled her features into a neutral set.

“It would not be an inconvenience, but I-”

“Splendid,” grinned the admiral as he reached out for her hands, “I’m sure the young lieutenant here will do you a fine partner in the next.”

Somehow a second later, her hand was being held by the man with too-blue eyes and a plume of heat was rising from where they joined, along her arm and up across her neck and decolletage. He smelt like soap and leather polish and radiated a delicious kind of warmth that she knew would feel wonderful against her in the lines of the dance-

Again, she practised her skills in pushing feelings away and instead concentrated on calculating how long the next dance would last before she could escape back to her seat. 

Killian was escorting the princess from her seat before he had a moment to think. So he puffed up his chest and walked as tall and solemnly as he could, remembering his duty as an officer of the realm over all else.

They reached the dance floor a few seconds later, just as the strings struck up the opening bars of a somewhat somber number that she knew would necessitate some conversation to pass between the pair as they danced.

Killian, for his part was flitting between annoyance at her earlier dismissal of him and anticipation of the chance to hold her. For even if she was haughty and proud, she was beautiful and that expression in her eyes intrigued him as much as ever. 

“Your highness,” he announced as he bowed before her. She curtsied slightly in response, and maybe he imagined it but a brief smile seemed to cross her lips. Placing his hands at her waist he took a shaky breath as he felt the warmth of her body beneath them and the aroma of her spicy, floral perfume fill the air between them. It had been a long time since he had been so close to one so beautiful.

As the dance began, Emma felt she should speak, it was only polite to do so. But somehow words escaped her as he led her down the assembled coupled.

“You dance quite well, lieutenant,” she finally observed after a moment's more silence.

A thin smile formed over his lips - lips that were close enough now for her to discern they looked soft and full and were remarkably well shaped.

“And that surprises you, Princess?”

She was unsure with what tone that was being delivered and she stumbled a second in the dance, instantly feeling his hand tighten at her waist to steady her. 

“No…” she whispered, letting herself glance at those too-blue eyes for just a second, “T’was only meant as a compliment, sir.”

A few more bars passed in silence.

“So then, m’lady, may I comment that the ballroom has certainly felt the lack of your own dancing skills.”

“And how should a lady take such a comment?” she snipped, a little fire seeping into her blood when she knew she ought to behave.

“Why, as a compliment too, of course,” he murmured, so close to her ear that his breath warmed her skin. Emma bit back another sharp reply, her lessons in deportment and lady-like behaviour swimming in her mind. Clearing her throat, she sought a different subject of discourse.

“So lieutenant, I hear congratulations are in order,” she tried as he twisted her around the ballroom.

“I believe that is the purpose of this ball,” he smirked as they were face to face again and despite herself Emma couldn’t deny she quite liked the spark in this man, even though some may say he was bordering on impudence. (Though perhaps that was the thing she liked most.)

They turned into a another spin and and for a second they parted and she felt the loss of his body against hers in a way she wasn’t quite able to admit. A second later, her fingers found the fine wool of his uniform. The uniform that was cut well against his broad shoulders and trim waist. She’d never before quite appreciated the splendor of naval attire the way she was that night.

“So,” he began again, feeling bold, perhaps from the glass of wine, or maybe just from her closeness,“I see you do not like to dance so much, nor do you seem to like balls in general. What do you like?”

The question took her by surprise. It had been sometime since a gentleman - or any person in truth - had asked a question about her. Not about her title, or her family or her kingdom. Caught off-guard, she shrugged gently. “I like to read and to go horse riding.”

“Quite singular past times, your highness.”

“And what of it?” she snapped, immediately sensitive to the criticism, however slight.

“Merely an observation,” he soothed.

The dance was slowing down. She twirled in his arms as the last bars played and finally their eyes met once more and she was suddenly struck by just how handsome this man was - not just in his features, but in the intelligent set of his brow and the sincerity in his voice when he spoke to her. And those eyes which she already knew would haunt her tonight.

“Well, your highness, I believe I have trespassed on your kindness long enough. I shall bid you adieu and take my leave.”

And with that he bowed deeply and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Emma speechless and confused as the dancers around her began to prepare for the next dance.

***

Killian found his brother quickly. He was mightily perplexed by his brief time with the princess. She seemed to oscillate between friendly warmth and cool indifference as if it were natural to her. He understood where the accusations of pride came from, but he had sensed a glimpse of something else beneath her cool exterior.

“Brother,” Liam smiled as he approached, “You survived your brush with royalty.”

“Aye,” he nodded as he reached for another goblet of wine from a passing waiter.

“And?” his brother asked, a teasing smile on his face, “She is a beauty, is she not? And she seemed a fine dancer.”

“Aye, that she is.”

“Tis a pity her personality is so flawed, or so they say. The admiral was free with his speech while you were in the dance, she seems to have gathered quite the reputation for haughtiness in recent years.”

Killian gave his brother a brief smile. “Well then, it’s a good thing that it takes more than a pretty pair of eyes to turn my head. Fear not, brother, I think my heart is quite safe from being wounded by a proud princess.”

“And I’m glad to hear it,” his brother replied, laughing as they tipped their goblets together, “I should hate to lose my first officer to a royal marriage.”

And even though Killian knew his brother was teasing him, at the same time he felt that perhaps he hadn’t been completely honest in his assessment of the royal; or in his own feelings beyond her fine eyes.

 


	2. The Rescue

The ball was fading into memory by the time Emma took her weekly visit to the local villages a few days later. This short break from the castle was a chance to escape the pressures of palace life: and that expectation and observation which were part and parcel of a royal title.

Wrapped up in her thickest and simplest wool cloak, she escaped through the kitchen’s entrance with a basket of bread and cheese and a purse full of coins. Misthaven, however generous it was to its subjects, still had residents who struggled to eat and care for themselves. So Emma tried to bring them food and some coins from time to time and at least in this small way she felt that she was serving some purpose other than heir apparent. She felt useful. And that was a rare thing nowadays.

As usual, Ruby had arranged with the groomsmen to have her favorite horse tied up and waiting a small distance into the forest that surrounded the castle wall. Her lady in waiting was certainly charming when it came to the opposite sex. She was also the person who would cover for her absences should anyone question the princess’s whereabouts. Such a good friend, Emma thought as she mounted her steed, mulling over how much longer it would be until Dr. Whale made his intentions clear and Ruby would have to leave her. Her loyal friend had spent long enough by her side and deserved a life of her own, Emma owed her that much. That thought was quickly pushed aside as Tess began to pick up speed: something to worry about another day, she mused.

Cantering through the trees with ease, the path she took was familiar and well trodden for the chestnut colored mare. The weather was changing early this year, the first leaves beginning to turn gold, the last fruit long fallen from the branch. Emma wondered how many more seasons she would pass in this manner. Sometimes she wished she could pause life, just as it was now. Capturing these moments where youth was still her currency and expectation had not yet fallen fully on her shoulders was one of her primary occupations. Her brother was still very young, she needed to retain the appearance of a strong heir until he was at least of age, and that meant taking more responsibility very soon. If her parents had been able to convince her, she would have undertaken a more active role for at least these past five years. But her mother was patient (and still convinced her aversion to marriage was temporary) and her father - well, she had him wrapped around her finger since infancy.

The ride to her destination took less than an hour. By the time she arrived in the small clearing where it lay, her cheeks were flush and her lungs full of the clean, fresh air that she adored. Rogat was one of the smallest villages in the entire kingdom, and as such there were but a few dwellings. It didn’t take long for her to check on the two largest families - each with a brood of children who never seemed to have shoes that fit or enough grain to quite stretch through the winter. After furnishing their cupboards with the goods she brought from the kitchen, she laid a pile of coins on the hand of each mother, promising more soon and brushing off the pledges of thanks and gratitude.

Emma sought no thanks for her work. In fact, she felt it was a paltry thing and if she could, would do more. Her parents, while generous, were mainly focused on the security of the kingdom. She understood: the very battles that had been fought since her infancy had guaranteed such a mindset. But now - well, wasn’t this a new time of peace and stability? Queen Regina finally defeated and banished to a realm from whence she would not be able to return - surely this meant that their priorities could change?

With these thoughts on her mind, Emma stopped at the well that was the focal point of the village and drew up a bucket of fresh water, not pausing to decant it into her gourd before she took a drink. Sometimes she wished she could live a simple life like these people. Yes, it would be difficult to manage a living here, but the freedom-

 _freedom_ was the antithesis of her royal life in so many way. Yet as Emma watched the village children play in amongst the houses, a new and more pressing thought emerged.

She had responsibility and she could - if she chose - have matching power. If she only took that step to be the princess her parents wished her to be, why, she could do so much good. She had so many ideas and dreams-

It was then, as she leant over to return the bucket, that the pendant she wore hidden around her neck slipped from beneath her gown. The silver nugget - flattened by hand and impressed with the image of a swan had been her constant companion for almost ten years now. Automatically her fingers wrapped around it and a shiver of fear ran down her spine - instantly reminded her why she was in no way fit to rule. He had seen to that.

“May I trouble you to help an old crone draw some water?”

Startled, Emma looked up to see the smiling face of an older woman.

“O-of course” Emma stuttered, searching the woman’s face for some familiar feature. “Have we met?” she asked as she turned the wheel that lowered the bucket.”

“Oh no, I’ve just moved here to be near my daughter. Even an old woman as stubborn as myself has to accept some help from time to time,” she smiled as she sat next to Emma on the low grey-stone wall. “That’s pretty, sweetheart. Is that a swan?” she asked, gesturing to the necklace that still dangled over the bodice of her dress.

Emma blushed and tucked the silver pendant back beneath her gown, “Yes, it is…”

“Ah, a love token is it?” she woman continued, a knowing glint in her eye.

“Something like that,” Emma replied as she took the jar the woman was holding and began to fill it with water from the well.

“So what’s a pretty lass like you doing without a ring on her finger?”

Eyelashes fluttering, Emma bit back the tears. The woman smiled kindly at her, clearly expecting some romantic tale. But Emma couldn’t give her that.

She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t waste her tears on him. He wasn’t worth it, especially after so long.

“Um… Not quite...” she fumbled, picking up the basket and taking the small purse from where it hung about her waist, “I actually am late… can you take this for the rest of your village?”

The woman took the offered basket and purse as Emma laid the water jar on the well’s wall. “Why yes, of course. My dear,” she began, placing her hand on Emma’s arm, “You seem out of sorts, can I help you in some way?”

Smiling a little bitterly, Emma took a deep calming breath. “No one can help me,” she explained softly, “I - I must be going-”

And with that, she picked up her skirts and dashed back to where Tess waited.

* * *

Riding back to the castle should have taken less than an hour, but Emma decided on a whim to visit a small lake nearby where her father used to take her as a child. Memories of floating paper boats on its calm surface and lying on the flower-filled banks were some of the happiest she possessed. Certainly, new happy moments were hard to come by now.

She dismounted in a small clearing, hitching Tess to a sturdy branch so she could graze as Emma tracked the final few paces to the water’s edge. A cool breeze pressed fine ripples into the water and whipped up the tendrils of hair that had escaped the twist she had placed in it that morning. Reaching back, she pulled out the pins and let her locks fall down, taking a moment to enjoy the wind slipping through the strands.

It wasn’t very often that she had the chance to be alone. Even when hidden away in her chambers, there was always the ever present knowledge of a nearby servant or lady in waiting surely about to pace the corridors outside. Living in a bubble was hard at the best of times and since the world had turned a shade darker for her, it had became all the more difficult.

She didn't want to think of him again. Perhaps that was the problem. Placing her hand on the pendant around her neck, Emma sighed deeply. Perhaps it was time to stop wearing it? It had been many years now since she had tied it around her neck and vowed never to let a man hurt her again.

Of course, Neal had at first shown her love. Real adult love and affection and all that came with it. She had been a little naive when she met the courtier’s son: barely 17, but in many ways much younger after a sheltered upbringing.

He’d been wonderful to begin with. Charming her parents, impeccable manners, such sweet attentions to her that she couldn’t help but develop feelings for him. She knew his family had fallen on difficult times, but he never mentioned his hardships when in her presence. Instead, he had lavished attentions on her, spent hours escorting her about the castle grounds and attending to her every need.

He was all a suitor ought to be.

She’d told him she loved him one night when he had snuck into her room long after dark. They’d made love and she’d been happy. So happy.

But then things changed. Her eighteenth birthday came and went (for whence he gave her the swan necklace. Because he’d told her swans were the most graceful creatures and had often compared her to one). And she could tell he was going to propose.

She wasn’t ready.

They’d been in the kitchen garden when she told him she wanted to wait. She had sat on the old tree swing as he pushed her. She had worried about his response. Yet he had been… sweet. He’d kissed her forehead and said time was no barrier to his love.

So it came as much surprise when the next day he was inexplicably absent from their arranged meeting at the library. Then the news came that he had left the kingdom on an urgent visit.

And then the further news only weeks later that he was engaged to Princess Tamara of Daneland.

Emma was crushed. Distraught. Her romantic ideals of true love swept away in an instant. All the youthful hopes and trust she possessed crumpled as she sobbed for days into her mother’s skirts.

Reaching behind her neck, she unfastened the small clasp that held the chain together. After letting it pool into her hand, she took a last moment to stare at the pendant, acknowledging that holding onto the past like she had been had not helped her. As much as wallowing in self pity sometimes felt good.

Balling up her fist, she pulled back her arm ready to throw it into the lake when a strangled cry rang out among the trees. Pausing, her head twisted towards the direction from whence it came. She could make out the sound of rapid hoof fall and she knew immediately that a horse had gone wild while being ridden. Without a further thought, she quickly stuffed the necklace into the pocket of her cloak and ran the few steps to mount Tess.

With a second’s hesitation, she pulled herself into the saddle and galloped towards the commotion.

Tess was quick, darting between the trees with practiced ease. Exhilarated, Emma felt her blood pounding through her veins as the wind threw back her hair and she had to tighten her grip to ensure the horse did not throw her. She’d always been an expert horsewoman - something she had inherited from her mother. Of course, racing like this was not seen as ladylike by some, but her parents had always encouraged her skills and she was thankful for her abilities now. There was no one else in this part of the woods so far as she could tell, so any rescue attempt would be solely her remit.

Then she saw it - a flash of a white horse winding erratically across the forest floor, a rider atop though she could make out neither age nor gender from this distance. Urging Tess to move faster, Emma’s cloak billowed about as she tried to catch the other horse. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest, the exhilaration of the chase bringing fire into her veins. It was the most excitement she had experienced in some time.

As she got closer, she could discern the rider was male by their height and build, but also that they were struggling to dig their heels into the flank of the animal and looked like at any moment they may tumble. Holding the reins tighter, Emma focused on the task ahead: clearly the rider was inexperienced and it was her duty to intervene. She pushed away an annoyed thought that someone so lacking in skills should be out here riding alone.

With a final effort, she coerced Tess to match the animal’s speed and then exceed it, it was barely enough time for her to come alongside the white steed and take hold of its reins. With one hand clinging to her own saddle, she tugged on the other horse sharply, jolting it from its gallop. For a second, she hoped that would be enough to draw both animals to a halt - albeit it an abrupt one. But it was not to be, and a moment later, the white horse reared back, in turn spooking Tess who stopped violently, resulting in both riders being tossed heavily to the ground.

The world was a blur as she tumbled and rolled, finally landing with a soft thud a few feet away. The weight of the other rider’s body pressed against her side as they came to a halt in a mossy patch that felt pleasantly cool beneath her cheek even as everything seemed to keep spinning.

Everything ached. She was sure she would be bruised, but was equally as certain she had avoided any more lasting injuries. The heavy weight of the man’s arm - for she was certain it was a man, not a boy - lay over her stomach and she struggled to breathe for it.  Groaning, she used one hand to raise herself to sit and the other to push the offending limb aside.

As she brushed away the dry leaves that clung to her clothes, it took a few moments for her eyes to focus. In the distance to her right, she could just see the glimmering surface of the lake and she breathed a sigh of relief that she would still be able to discern her location. She needed to return to the castle in a timely manner lest she be missed and any further solo excursions made impossible. With a sigh, she gently massaged the aching muscles of her neck, almost forgetting about the person she had rescued until he let out a low, pained groan.

“Damn,” the body growled. Emma glanced to her left. The man was lying with his face pressed into the dirt, his features obscured by the dark hair that had fallen over his forehead. He was dressed in dark slacks and a blue wool coat - not peasant’s clothing, indicating that he was likely from the capital. She wondered what he was doing out this far.

Emma wiped the dirt from her hands on her cloak as she gave the man a moment to pull himself up. He placed his head in his hands for a moment which afforded her the chance to stand and discern that he was broad of shoulder and long limbed. His hair was thick and dark and long enough to lick at the collar of his shirt. A strange feeling of familiarity began to creep over her as he turned to look at her.

“I guess I have a lot of thanks to-”

As he spoke, he looked up at the woman who had rescued him. The sunlight shone behind her and her blonde hair gave her the visage of an angel. Killian was sure he had never seen a more delightful sight, until she interrupted his thoughts with a shrill cry of, “You!”

Confusion marred his features, sunlit as they were by the last of the afternoon’s daylight. But while he may have been struggling to place her, she was sure of his identity as soon as those too-blue eyes flickered open.

_The Lieutenant._

For his part, Killian squinted in the force of the bright light and stumbled to his feet with the aid of a nearby tree. The voice and the hair it was all so familiar-

“Do we-” he began before it suddenly clicked and he bowed quickly, “Oh, your highness, forgive me.”

“Hmph,” she snorted in reply and Killian lifted his head. “A little late for that, sailor.”

Straightening his shoulders, Killian winced a little at the pain in his back that landing hard on the ground had given him.  “I assure you I am most grateful, my lady.”

He caught her rolling her eyes as she turned and walked a few paces away.

Because she had to give a little distance from him. He was just a little too close for comfort, especially when she now noted just how their bodies had lain against each other only moments earlier. A crimson flush grew on her cheeks at the thought.

“Just what were you doing?” she sniffed, tucking her hair behind her ears before she turned back to face him, “Trying to get killed?”

Killian recoiled, a little taken aback by the princess’s tone. Cautiously, he took a step in her direction.”I was merely stretching my horseman’s legs, a sailor doesn't often get the chance.”

She tossed him a haughty look whilst pulling her cloak tighter about her body. “Well perhaps you should stay within the castle grounds after a display like that.”

It was then that Emma appreciated just how close the officer had once again gotten to her. She found herself caught up in the blueness of his eyes just like when she had danced with him at the ball and for a second she forgot herself.

“My apologies, Princess,” he replied with a distinct and unexpected sincerity. Moving another step further, “I meant no harm.”

“Oh, of course,” she mumbled, lashes fluttering involuntarily as she tried to find something other than his face to focus on, feeling a sudden remorse for her treatment of him. “Pardon my outburst, I was merely…” her voice trailed off as she struggled to find a justification for her words.

Killian couldn’t help but smile at her change of attitude. And then he couldn’t help but tease- “Concerned for my well-being?”

Emma felt her cheeks flare red hot and for a second all words died in her throat. “You speak _quite_ out of turn, lieutenant,” she finally quipped, turning and pacing back to where they had landed.

Immediately, Killian followed her, feeling a little foolish and wondering where that comment had come from. “Milady, please, stop. We have taken quite the tumble.”

As he walked, he could feel the stretched muscles of his back twitch in annoyance. Clearly she must have caused herself some injury too. Damn, had it been a more serious tumble, he may have been in the line for some trouble from the royals. He could only imagine how they would react to their heir being wounded.

Emma spun around, “Aye, and it would have been much worse had I not intervened.”

Nervously, he scratched behind his ear, “A fact for which I have been trying to say thank you.”

Taking a deep breath, Emma threaded her hands through her hair.

“I need to get back to the castle,” she announced, ignoring her previous statement, “I am already late.”

“Then I shall not detain you,” he nodded, bowing again, his eyes catching a glint of silver among the grassy floor. Narrowing his eyes, he bent down and scooped up a small silver pendant and chain. “Is this yours?”

Emma started as she saw what the officer held in his hand. The pendant must have fallen from her pocket when she landed.

“Oh, um, yes-” she answered, stretching out her hand to take it, starting when their palms met.

And then she let herself look at him again - really look. He had gotten a sheen of sweat on his forehead that had slicked his hair to one side. His cheeks were red from the exercise and his breathing was still slightly labored - and her traitorous mind began to wonder if that’s how he would look when he had been kissed? _Oh why was she thinking such things?_

“Thank you,” she finally managed as she refastened the chain and tucked it beneath her chemise.

She began to straighten her dress and cloak, feeling more uncomfortable with every moment. She couldn’t explain it, but there was just something about the way he looked at her which made her feel like he could somehow see beneath her skin.

And as every moment passed she found him more and more handsome. And after spending so many years avoiding the company of men, this unexpected moment with this particular man was most unwelcome.

“How can I repay you?” he asked.

Emma turned and whistled, knowing Tess would respond to her summons within seconds. “Just stay off a horse for a few days,” she sighed, not looking at him; trying to pretend he was not really there.

“Well that should not be a problem - we leave in two days. It seems some of Queen Regina’s more loyal subjects are putting up resistance on the outskirts of the kingdom.”

“That’s… soon,” Emma replied.

And all of a sudden she felt very strange.

Like this man - who she barely knew - his leaving meant something to her.

Which was preposterous.

“Yes…” Killian sighed, sneaking glances at the beautiful princess and letting his attraction to her flare. An attraction that was ignited by her looks but fueled by her bravery and quick wit. Which he justified was fine because being a sailor he wasn’t often in the company of such women. (If many such women even exist.)

“I’d hoped to spend more time here.” He swallowed deeply, admitting to himself that he’d have perhaps liked to have the chance to see the princess again. Just from curiosity, of course.

“Well the kingdom appreciates your sacrifices,” Emma said stoically as Tess finally came into view. “As I said earlier though, I must be on my way.”

“Of course, your highness.”

She couldn’t help but a little wince at the formal title.

Just as she was about to mount Tess, Killian’s horse came into view. He breathed a sigh of relief, already contemplating a hike back to the castle.

And then it occurred to him that he didn’t _know_ the way back to the castle.

“Ah - could you perhaps point me to the correct path?” he asked as she was settling her skirts over the saddle.

“I thought sailors had a good sense of direction?” she smiled despite herself.

Taking hold of his own horse he admitted, “Why yes, on the open seas, but as you can see right now, I am quite out of my depths.”

And as much as she wanted to remove herself from his dangerous company as soon as possible, she couldn’t just leave him out there wandering in the woods and with a sigh of resignation she replied, “Follow me.”

* * *

 

The last minute decision to take out a horse had, in hindsight, been a little rash. It had been months since he had ridden and even longer since he had been on a long trek alone. But his foolish determination to do as he pleased was not easy to override.

When his steed had taken off he had cursed his own pride and clung as tight as he could until his rescuer had found him.

And what a rescue.

To say he was surprised to see the princess would be an understatement. That she should be out in the woods - and alone - was quite shocking. But adding to that her daring rescue, well, he was quite without the words.

Together they rode silently through the forest. He was curious why she was there. He couldn’t help but sneak more glances at her from time to time. Free from her more courtly garb, she was even more stunning than on their first meeting. But more than that, she seemed so much more at home here outside the castle walls. She sat tall and confident in her horse’s saddle, her hair tossed over one shoulder and eyes fixed ahead.

They called her haughty, he knew that. He understood. She did give off this air of indifference and solitude in her posture and expression. Still he couldn’t help but wonder that there was more to this royal than mere pride.

On his travels he had met and interacted with a great many people. He had met the most arrogant sods imaginable (some of which were his immediate superiors). This princess was different somehow. A conundrum of sorts. A challenge to unravel.

And Killian Jones did like a challenge.

* * *

Emma found herself leading Lt. Jones directly to the main gate. Ordinarily she would have returned the way she came through the kitchen, but he seemed so completely lost even as they approached the near vicinity of the castle walls that she had decided it would be easiest to lead him in herself.

Somehow they had managed to pass the journey with barely a word between them. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to talk. More that she wasn’t really sure what to say. Yet at first she had tried to ignore him, but an hour’s journey with another can rarely pass in comfortable silence. And Emma was acutely aware of this man’s presence.

As they rode, she had thought about their dance at the ball - about how forward he had been with her and admitting to herself that she had actually quite liked it. A little battle fought out in her mind between the closed off Emma who was determined to hide away from anyone and everything and the old Emma who she had hidden behind high emotional walls for so long: the old Emma who was curious and courteous and yearned to know everything about everyone.

Still, here they were now, riding through the gates together, herself no more the wiser about this man; attracting the attention of the guardsmen who watched the entrance. Emma knew that this would be gossip around the kingdom before the afternoon was out.

“Well, here we are,” she announced as they reached the keep’s stables. Easily she dismounted and handed the reins to a stable boy who was running towards them.

Killian sighed in relief, his back was fully stiff now from the fall and the journey. Slipping his feet to the courtyard floor, he turned and gave the princess a warm smile. “I will be forever in your debt.”

In response, she nodded, before quickly looking around and taking a step closer. “Lieutenant - can I count on your secrecy in this matter? My journeys from the castle are not common knowledge and I’d like it to remain that way.”

Instantly more curious, Killian could only respond with a gallant bow and a muttered, “Of course.”

“Then this is where we part,” the princess continued. She seemed a little unsure what to do. As did Killian. Until he impulsively reached out his hand and took hers in his, pressing a kiss to the back of her glove, looking up into her eyes as he did so and registering the little glint of surprise they held.

“Adieu, your highness,” he replied, slowly turning to walk back to the castle gates.

Emma watched him go, her hand tingling beneath the kid leather, her stomach a little a-flutter -of course that was because she had barely eaten all day. It had nothing at all to do with the dashing Lieutenant Jones.

A/N: If you have enjoyed this, please let me know what you think :)


	3. The Shift

Hoping to escape to the quiet sanctuary of her room, Emma was mildly disappointed to find her lady in waiting already in situ, busy preparing her wardrobe for the week ahead.

“I hear you had quite the afternoon, my lady,” Ruby teased as Emma closed the door of her quarters firmly behind her.

“Why, news does travel fast,” Emma replied grimly, flashing Ruby a wry smile.

Ruby stood and helped the princess remove her cloak and began to work at the buttons that fastened the back of her grass-stained overdress.

“Judging by the state of your garments, I’d say there is more to this story than idle gossip. They say you entered the main gate with a man - is that much true?”

Emma nodded, taking a deep breath as the dress loosened.

“So who was he? I had the stable boy waiting for you by the kitchen entrance for over an hour and then he came and brought the message that you had returned in such a manner: you can forgive a lady for being curious.”

“There’s another word to describe your interest,” Emma huffed as she pulled off the dress, “Prying.” She gave her friend a pointed stare as she walked to her wardrobe to retrieve an indoor dress.

“Can you blame one for looking out for a dearest friend’s well-being?”

Tugging on the dress - that thankfully fastened at the front - Emma  twisted her mouth into a pout.

“Fine. I know I will not hear the end of this until you have at least some information.” She finished the last button and then walked to her dressing table; taking up her brush she began to attack her knotted hair. “I was in the woods when I saw someone had lost control of their horse, I came to their aide and escorted them back to the castle.”

“Someone-” Ruby began.

“An officer,” Emma demurred. “A naval officer.”

Ruby laughed, low and soft. “Another one? Why, after that performance at the ball you _will_ have the court talking! So, come on, between us girls, what was he like? Have I met him? Was he old and portly, or did you strike lucky and meet someone more...of age?”

“Actually,” Emma sighed turning to face her friend, “You have met him.” Ruby stared, urging her to continue. “By some strange twist of fate it happened to be the same lieutenant from the ball.”

“Oh my!” Ruby exclaimed, “What luck!”

“Luck?” Emma screeched, “The fool was out galavanting alone when he barely has the horsemanship skills of a five year old! Honestly, Ruby, the luck is that he wasn’t killed before I found him.”

“You sound-”

“What?” Emma snapped, slamming the hairbrush back down on the dressing table with a far louder thud than she’d intended.

A knock at the door was a thankful interruption to this line of questioning and Emma tried to compose herself by straightening her shoulders before calling for the visitor to enter. The door opened and in stepped the master of the castle guardsmen.

“Sheriff Humbert,” she exclaimed in surprise, nodding her head as he bow gently.

“I apologize for the interruption, milady, but I was informed that you entered the castle grounds a short time ago with an unauthorized escort. Is that true?”

“Goodness, are there any secrets in this palace?” she groaned, letting out a deep sigh as Ruby flashed her a quick glance.

“If there are, I hope you can at least forgive me for being privy to them - it being the purpose of my office.” He smiled briefly, his handsome face crinkling at the eyed. “But as it is, I was informed following the change of guard on the main gates and I felt it my duty to ensure your well-being.”

“As you can see I am very ‘well’. In fact, I was the one ‘escorting,’ Sheriff. The man with me was an officer from The Jewel of the Realm who had become lost in the woods. I was out exercising Tess when I stumbled across him and offered to lead him back to the castle. Are you satisfied?”

The blonde sheriff looked almost embarrassed as the princess sank her hands on her hips and stared him down. Emma was so tired of being the subject of everyone’s scrutiny - the royal guard included.

“Why yes, of course, though you know your mother asks that you take a guardsman with you when you leave the castle.”

Emma sighed in frustration, “Which was understandable when we were at war, but now that Regina is defeated, am I ever to have some freedom? Some peace?”

Sheriff Humbert didn’t seem to know what to say, instead he bowed again and smiled lightly, “I shall discuss the matter with your parents at our next security meeting, your highness, perhaps request on your behalf that the rules be modified.”

“Good,” she replied with a sniff, “You are dismissed.”

With a final quick bow the man was gone and Emma was left alone with Ruby.

Ruby was grinning when Emma turned back to face her.

“What now?” Emma snapped, growing more frustrated by the minute at the day’s turn of events.

“You don’t see it, do you?”

Emma rolled her eyes.

“He still pines for you.”

“Not this again-”

“It was clear he was jealous, your highness, it was written all over his face.”

“You’re delusional,” Emma replied with a shake of her head.

“You know the sheriff has always held a torch for you. Graham is a good man Emma, if only you would just give him a chance. I’d dare say your mother would even agree he is a good match.”

“Which would be fine if I were looking for a match, but as I have told you repeatedly, that is the last thing I want right now.” ( _Or ever_ , she added silently to herself.)

“So even if the young lieutenant were to waltz in here with those blue eyes and that uniform - you’d turn him down without so much as one regret?”

“In such a scenario, I could only presume a situation like that would only occur to further his career. You know these officer types - it’s all commissions and ships and the like. And Ruby, I am not interested in being a pawn in someone’s progress up the ladder of the royal navy. So yes. In fact, I’d turn him down with a smile on my face.”

Pursing her lips, Ruby nodded. “Fine, I will end this discourse, for now. But I’m not giving up hope for you, Emma.”

The princess took hold of her hair and began to twist it back up into a chignon. “Why not?” she mumbled, “I have.”

***

Liam found the story of his brother’s afternoon most entertaining.

“Rescued? By a woman?”

His laughter filled the captain’s cabin, echoing against the dark wooden walls.

“Aye,” Killian nodded, massaging the ache in his neck, “Bloody horse was wild.”

“I warned you you were out of practice.”

Killian raised his brows. He had yet to tell his brother exactly who had come to his rescue. “Your fault for working me too hard, Captain. But there was something else about the encounter, another detail if you will.”

“Oh?” Liam said, folding his arms as he lay against his desk, “Was the lass pretty? Did she give you a kiss - or something more?”

Hesitating, Killian began to tug at his collar, something he often did when he was nervous.

“What is it Killian? Your silence is worrying me.”

“Well, my savior wasn’t so much a lass… as a princess.”

Liam gave him a queer look before understanding crossed his face. “You don’t mean-”

“Yes,” his brother nodded, “The crown princess.”

“Well then, this _is_ an interesting development.”

“Aye,” Killian sighed, “Though I’m not sure if interesting is the right word.” He frowned and began to chew on his bottom lip.

His brother looked at him with amusement, “What? Did you say something crass? Make a fool of yourself?”

Shrugging, Killian began to scratch behind his ear, “Somewhat…. almost, I mean, being rescued by anyone is bad enough, but her-”

“I knew you liked her,” Liam teased and Killian flashed him an annoyed look.

“Hardly,” he snapped, flopping down in one of the small armchairs that sat in the corners of the room, “It’s just… well…”

He wasn’t quite sure how to finish his own sentence and concentrated his attentions on the oak floorboards as he tried to think. Actually, he’d been very composed during the encounter with her highness. But since he’d left her at the stable, a more unsettled feeling had overcame him.

“She’s just-”

The creak of the floorboards signalled Liam’s approach and Killian looked up. “Brother?” Liam asked and Killian lifted his head. “It’s fine to admit you find her attractive - goodness knows it’s about time you showed interest in something other than your career.”

Killian sighed; she was attractive. Any man could see that. But more, she was feisty and beguiling and utterly different to any woman he had ever met before.

“And what’s in a harmless crush? Nothing can come of it - anyway we leave soon. So let your eyes feast on the lass and maybe she will be kind and bestow upon you a smile.”

Liam laughed heartily and Killian felt his cheeks turn crimson.

“Hardly likely,” Killian grimaced, “I think she thinks me a fool.”

“Brother, she is royalty, everyone is beneath her. With the rank comes the privilege of lording over us regular sorts.”

“Maybe it is as you say,” Killian nodded, drawing in a deep breath. He wasn’t so sure about Liam’s opinion of the princess’s personality but equally wasn’t sure enough yet to form a definite one of his own yet either. His head ached and his shoulder was stiff and thinking right now was a little too difficult. “Brother, I think the fall from the horse has shook me more than I care to admit. May I-”

“Take you leave,” his brother finished. “I need you fresh in the morning to start preparing for our trip. Go sleep, maybe some dreams of a pretty princess will make it all the more restful,” he chuckled as Killian stood.

The younger brother, for his part, could not find the situation amusing and left with a small nod to his brother, praying that slumber would ease his worries.

***

The next morning, the sun was shining brighter than it had in days. Emma stretched out like a cat in its warm embrace, enjoying those rare moments where her mind was clear and she could pretend she had no worries or problems. She could be anyone until she opened her eyes: anyone but the troubled princess who wore the weight of a kingdom’s expectations on her shoulders.

Grudgingly, she roused herself when her maid entered with fresh water for her toilette. Her muscles predictably ached from her adventures the day before… which inevitably meant her thoughts turned to her partner in the incident.

She padded over to her wardrobe to inspect the choices for the next few days.

Two meetings over the course of a week did not a significant acquaintance make, she reminded herself as she searched through the linen and silk offerings. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to a blue gown that she hadn’t worn in some time. Pulling it out, she held it up to the light. It wasn’t a patch on the blue shade of his eyes, she found herself thinking.

Pausing, she chased away that thought.

Closing the closet, she draped the dress over her arm.

Then a sudden thought emerged, his body pressed against hers on the forest floor, his scent lingering in the air, the sight of his ruffled hair and flushed cheeks-

Huffing in frustration, she slammed her body back against the door.

It had been a while since a man had turned her head. Yes, her heart was closed off but she was a woman with all the needs and desires that came with it. And while she stared at the cream coloured walls of her room, she reasoned that thinking of him for a moment could do no harm - she could let her mind indulge itself and then simply never think of him again.

She let his image form - his dark hair that brushed against his collar and the tawny skin that spoke of hours spent outdoors and served to multiply the blueness of his eyes, especially the day before in the half light of the forest. Yes, he had fine eyes. And a strong jaw, broad shoulders and pleasing legs (so she could tell from the way his riding breeches had clung to them as he rode-)

And, _yes_ , he was noble in his countenance, something she hadn’t expected of a sailor - but even more so in his demeanor and his manner of address, which was all at once somewhat familiar but still respectful. He didn’t seem to fear her rank, a rare thing indeed she admitted. And though their conversations were limited in scope and length, she couldn’t help but find herself most intrigued and desiring to know more about him.

He was the most interesting man she had met in quite some time, she conceded reluctantly; he was just so different...

“Your highness!” called the maid as she returned from the parlor with her shoes, “You’ll be late for breakfast if you don’t hurry, your father is waiting!”

Ah yes, Emma thought to herself, her father insisted she joined him for breakfast every morning. It was truthfully one of the few times of the day they could spend together at leisure, before he and her mother were more often than not overtaken with the duties of running a kingdom.

“Don’t worry Grace,” she replied, snapping out of her daydream, “I’m dressing now.”

And with that, she pushed herself away from the wardrobe and began slipping on the blue dress (not quite the shade of his eyes… but close).

***

Toasts and cured meats and bowl upon bowl of fresh fruit: breakfast was never a simple affair in the royal household. Emma sighed as she popped a ripe strawberry into her mouth. How many in the villages could this spread alone feed? Sometimes she thought her parents were quite out of touch with their own subjects.

“Penny for your thoughts?” her father asked from across the table, her mother having already left to attend to some urgent household matters.

“Just a little tired,” Emma yawned, not completely untruthfully.

“Ah yes, I heard about your little adventure yesterday-”

She’d been waiting for him to bring this up.

“Father, I can explain-” she interrupted.

“Hush,” he replied, smiling as he placed his napkin on the table. “I do understand your yearning for freedom - and don’t think your jaunts out into the villages have gone unnoticed by your mother and I.”

Emma blushed deeply, she’d assumed they had been in the dark about those activities.

“And you are not a child anymore,” he smiled sadly, “We cannot keep you chained to these halls.”

“But…” Emma sighed, waiting for the inevitable reprimand.

“But your safety is paramount. There are still some parties loyal to Regina throughout our realm and hidden, though I’d wager they may risk exposure to capture a princess.”

“So you’re saying I’m grounded?” she asked wryly.

“No,” he smiled, “I don’t think I could hold you back no matter how hard I tried. But for your mother’s sake - and my own - I must insist on at least a small escort.”

Emma raised her shoulders to sigh, composing herself to plead her case to her father when, just then, a royal messenger entered the room - recognizable by his green felt cap and leather satchel. He handed her father a sealed note and then with a quick bow, retreated.

King David broke the wax seal with his thumb before scanning the contents with a scowl upon his face.

“It’s from Lord Faulkner, his wife is sick and he can no longer be envoy for our visit to Adrendelle.”

“You’re sending a party to Arendelle? Why?”

Her father looked up, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Yes, Queen Elsa is keen to liaise with us to coordinate defenses against any groups who may try and take advantage of Regina’s demise. The Jewel of the Realm was to take them there on the way to the kingdom’s outer reaches. Now the whole plan is thrown into disarray.”

 _The Jewel of the Realm,_ Emma thought quickly, that was the Lieutenant’s ship.

Her father stared at the paper, a frown forming between his brows as he reread the contents.

“Perhaps someone else could go? she asked, inching a little closer to look over the king’s shoulder.

“Who is there?” he asked with a shrug, “We are already overstretched and I can’t afford to let any of my privy council go at a delicate time like this, and all our best ambassadors are otherwise engaged.”

And then a sudden idea formed, one so wild and unexpected that it was on her lips before she had time to think-

“Why not me?”

“You?” her father retorted, a look of surprise on his face.

And now the idea had took seed, Emma grasped it with full force. “Yes. I’m more than competent in the details of foreign relations and law and Queen Elsa knows me and you and mother have been hinting that I take a larger role in the kingdom.”

( _And the ship on which I would travel contains a sailor whom I have found most beguiling-_ )

“Slow down, slow down,” he father chuckled, raising his hands. “What has brought on this sudden change of attitude?”

She knew he was referring to her previous avoidance of any involvement in the governing of Misthaven.

She knew also that this attitude had hurt her parents, for all they pretended that it didn’t.

“I’m just…” she struggled to think of a logical reason to give her father, “I just… think it’s time to start preparing.”

“Preparing?” he prompted, a smile curving at the edges of his lips.

“For the future,” she answered, enigmatically.

He stared at her, studying her face.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” she replied, shocked that he had actually agreed to her plan.

“With conditions,” he cautioned in his most fatherly tone of voice.

“Such as?”

The kind sank back in his chair. “A double guard will attend you, led by Sheriff Humbert.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her with a sharp look.

“And the Jewel will not be able to return you to us due to her duties. So I will need agreement from Queen Elsa to provide passage on one of Arendelle’s ships.”

Emma nodded, “I’m sure she will agree. Elsa and I do correspond regularly and we both know that ships from that realm dock here at least once per week.”

A bubble of excitement rose as she waited for her father to respond.

She was leaving the kingdom!

She was going to travel on a ship!

Then she swallowed hard.

She was going to spend a week in close quarters with _him._

“Then you have my consent,” he finally added, standing to pull her into a hug.

Just as Emma realized what she had gotten herself into.

***

The fog in his mind had still been there when he woke - making thinking difficult and moving barely less so. Killian washed and dressed and dragged himself into a semblance of formality.

He’d dreamed of her that night. Her face and her smile… and the way she could express more in her eyes that he thought he could manage in a 1,000 words. Aye, he was mightily stuck in the mire when it came to the princess.

Everytime he thought the word ‘princess’ he would squeeze his eyes shut. She was far above his station, so far above he was surprised she could see him beneath her skirts. He was nothing to her and dreaming and thinking about her was nothing but foolishness.

Up on deck, he received some comfort for the gentle swaying of the ship in the harbor breeze and the routine of organizing the men in preparation for their departure. Liam always afforded him a lot of autonomy in such matters. Perhaps it was because he was his brother, but Killian secretly hoped that it was because he was also the best man for the job.

He was down in the captain’s cabin, updating the log of supplies in the hold, when Liam happened upon him with a devilish smile on his face.

“Brother,” he announced as he walked in, his hat under his arm and a sheaf of papers in his hand.

“Captain,” Killian nodded, “I take it a good meeting was had with the admiralty?”

Liam raised his brows as he tossed his hat on the desk in front of Killian. “Just the standard briefing,” he replied with a bob of his head, “Except…”

Killian glanced up and placed down his quill pen.

“Except _what_?”

Slowly Liam sauntered to one of the room’s armchairs and slowly sank down.

“What is it brother…” Killian asked again, irritation growing at his brother’s silence.

Taking a deep breath, Liam tilted his head to one side. “Well, we are having an unexpected party traveling with us to Arendelle.”

Killian narrowed his eyes, “Who?”

“Oh,” Liam shrugged, “Just a certain royal with whom _you_ are intimately acquainted.”

Staring at him, Killian pursed his lips in annoyance, “You are trying to tease me brother, but it will not work.”

“I’m serious.”

“What?” Killian scoffed, “Are you telling me the crown bloody princess is in need of a holiday? Stop wasting my time.” He looked back down at the ledger of lists and numbers, annoyance making his vision blur.

“It’s true, brother,” Liam insisted, standing and making his way back to the desk, “She’s traveling on a diplomatic mission, replacing some lord or other who can no longer keep the commitment. She leaves with us in the morning.”

Killian felt the blood begin to drain from his face.

“I see you are pleased with this development,” Liam quipped. Ignoring him, Killian busied himself picking up his pen and pretending to concentrate.

“You are mistaken Captain, I am most indifferent to the cargo we carry, regardless of its type. Now I must continue with this or we will be going nowhere come the morn.”

He glanced up, to see his brother still wearing the smile as he picked up his hat. “Of course,” he nodded before he turned to leave. Pausing just before the door he added, “I shall be preparing the spare cabin next to yours, little brother, you know it is the best for the princess. I thought you could keep watch of her that way. Since you are, as I said earlier, acquainted.”

Then with a wink, Liam left Killian alone and as the door shut the quill fell again from his hand as Killian wondered how this situation could possibly get any worse.

***

With enough gowns packed for a twelvemonth, Emma was driven to the harbor at first light. Traveling with her were Ruby, Sheriff Humbert and one other trusted guard from the castle. She had thankfully managed to persuade her father that to take more soldiers from the castle was unwise; indeed the less pomp and fuss the better, she thought.

The carriage jostled and her teeth chattered with each movement on the cobbled road. And maybe just slightly because she was nervous. Emma had already bid her farewells to her parents and promised a speedy return once all matters were dealt with. In her hands she clutched a leather satchel of papers that her father had spent the night explaining to her and she had to admit the smallest amount of trepidation about her important role.

( _And seeing the lieutenant again_ , a voice in her head whispered.)

Beside her Ruby chattered away about how she was looking forward to the trip, having never visited Arendelle before. Across from them the sheriff was stoic, looking out of the window at the streets as they passed by. He hadn’t spoken much that morning, aside from the usual greeting. He was never a man of many words but his unusual silence was admittedly a little unsettling.

“We’re here!” Ruby announced as the carriage came to a stop.

The Sheriff helped the ladies from the carriage as the dock workers took charge of their luggage, carrying it swiftly up the gangplank as the captain came down to meet them. He made small talk as they waited for the process to be completed, Emma only half listening as she absentmindedly scanned the area for a certain pair of too-blue eyes.

“Are you ready to board, your highness?” Captain Jones asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

“Why yes,” she nodded, being careful not to smile too much. Her father had reminded her of the duties of rank before she left. She was there to represent the kingdom, and as such must maintain a level of decorum suitable to her status.

The Captain nodded briefly and then led her onto the walkway.

***

Killian had woken before dawn and spent the hours since checking and rechecking the preparations. He was never normally this nervous about such details - he had been a sailor many years after all. But despite his experience, he found himself doubting his own work and feeling so unsettled in his skin that finally he escaped the confines of below deck and made his way to the fresh open air.

Just as she was coming aboard the ship.

He caught a glimpse of that golden hair first. She was bundled up in a dark blue cloak against the morning chill, her cheeks rosy with it.

He was staring. He knew he shouldn’t, but it was hard to look away. Even as he saw her head turn and their eyes met-

His breath caught. She was looking at him. She held his gaze for what felt like an eternity but was perhaps only seconds. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs. Then she smiled. A small, brief smile that others may have missed but he saw it. A part of him fancied it was for himself… but that was a presumptuous, dangerous thought.

She turned away to talk to her lady in waiting beside her, whom he recognized from the ball. He himself was just about to look away from the scene and bury himself in his tasks when he saw the royal guardsman who walked behind the ladies - wait, no, he was a sheriff, the insignia on his chest paid testament to that.

Killian continued to watch, stepping back behind some rigging so he could do so in some secrecy.

The other man watched the princess carefully, with more care than just that of a protector.

He laid his hand on the princesses arm. He whispered in her ear. He glanced at her when she was engaged in conversation with her lady.

The sheriff was clearly enamoured with the princess.

And with that revelation, Killian felt the first pinpricks of jealousy tap against his spine.


	4. The Journey

Killian Jones had never been one to court women the way some officers did. Whilst others on shore leave spent their time flattering the local lasses in order to get under their skirts, Killian had long since decided such distractions were bad form. Indeed, aside from a drunken moment or two with a pretty lass who’d taken a shine to him, he’d been quite devoid of female contact and that had been perfectly fine as he focused on his career - determined to at least match his brothers youthful age of receding his own ship. Yet now he could not get the princess out of his mind. And that worried him.

Therefore, it had taken his best efforts to avoid the royal party that first day at sea. First, he had carried out a full structural inspection of the ship. Then, he had insisted on an audit of the goods in the hold which had his subordinates grumbling over the extra work.  His plan had worked well, with him managing to confine himself to areas of the ship where they were guaranteed not to venture. The less he saw of her, the better; that was the way things had to be.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Killian started at the sound of his brother’s voice. He’d been so engrossed in his thoughts as he stood by the helm, that he hadn’t heard him approach.  “Good evening, Captain,” he replied, flashing the elder Jones a look as he turned back to the map he held in his hands.

“You sound somewhat vexed, Lieutenant.”

“And why ever would you think that?” Killian replied drolly.

Liam laughed and walked around to face him. “I see you have spent the whole day making a concerted effort to stay out of the way of our guests.”

“I was merely doing my job, I’m sure as Captain you would value that over engaging in idle chit-chat with our passengers,” Killian nodded, picking up the spyglass which hung from his belt and turning away from his brother.

“Come now, I thought having her royal highness aboard would have improved your spirits! She is rather beautiful, as is her lady in waiting, and yet you hide yourself away.”

“Your point?” Killian snapped, finding himself, losing patience with his older brother’s teasing.

Liam narrowed his eyes. “I thought you fancied her?” 

Killian took a deep breath, “She is, as you say, rather beautiful and I am sure one day will make an excellent queen. That is the sum total of my thoughts on the princess.”

Liam looked unsure, but washed the look away with a smile, “Well then, if that’s the case you will not mind hosting dinner with me for our guests, in the map room.”

“But I have yet to finish the new charts.”

“Williams can do it, he needs the experience.”

“But I am your best navigator.”

“And the sub-lieutenant will not improve if you keep taking the task from him. Come now, as your Captain I demand it, but as your brother I wish it.”

Finally Killian nodded, “If it is that important then I consent to attending.”

“Excellent,” Liam cried, slapping him on the back, “It shall be a most capital evening, I’m sure.”

“Indeed,” Killian replied, thinking quite the opposite would be the case.

***

Dinner came sooner than Killian could have wished. He’d quickly changed into clean britches and his new coat which he had only acquired that week. Using the small polished mirror in his quarters he’d washed his face and smoothed back his hair, attempting to pull himself into some kind of suitable shape for dinner.   
Emma certainly hadn’t been expecting the lieutenant to be present that evening. So when the cabin door had opened and she had entered the map room, it had taken her a moment to recover from the surprise. He stood stiffly next to the Captain as the royal party made their way to their seats. She was seated in between the lieutenant and the sheriff, Ruby beside Mr. Humbert and another officer whom she had not met before between Ruby and the captain, making a small but acceptable party of six.

After thanking the captain for his hospitality, Emma had passed the first part of the meal in quiet, polite conversation with the sheriff. It wasn’t that she was ignoring Lieutenant Jones, just she wasn’t quite sure what to say to him. Their last meeting had been rather peculiar and she felt lodged in the position of not quite being good acquaintances with the gentleman and yet also being far from strangers. And for his part, he seemed more concerned with the contents of his plate and attending to the conversation occurring between the captain and the other officer (who she now knew was named Smith and not a member of the regular crew, merely journeying to Arendelle much as they were). The first chance occurred as the plates from the first course were removed and they waited for the main dish to arrive. She needed to say something to him now, before things became decidedly awkward.

“Did you enjoy your dish?” 

Dazed, Killian jumped slightly when he realized the princess was addressing him. She had seemed so deep in conversation with the sheriff to her left that he had assumed she had forgotten all about him.

“Hmm, oh, yes, of course, most pleasant,” he blundered, self consciously straightening his cravat as a plate of fresh grilled fish was laid at the center of the table. 

He’d thought that was that, but then she spoke again.

“How are your injuries?”

Swallowing, he turned his head slightly so he could make out her face in the candlelight. Yes, she was still most beautiful, he conceded dejectedly, the simple blue lace of her dress only serving to enhance her clear complexion and flaxen hair.   
“They are healing well.”

The smile he provided her was enough reward for her questioning. He looked even more handsome when he smiled. Had she met a more attractive young man?

Fresh plates were then placed in front of the diners and Killian frowned as he heard Mr. Humbert address the princess and ask if she wished him to serve her the fish. She was clearly capable of undertaking the task and he held back another smile as the princess politely declined and the other man frowned.

“May I thank you again for your assistance?” Killian asked when the sheriff paused, this time clearly taking her by surprise if her small gasp was any evidence. 

“You’ve thanked me many times already, I believe,” she replied.

“Then perhaps once more would not be unwelcome.”

She smiled, dimples puncturing her cheeks, in an almost shy manner, not one he had come to expect from her.

“Lieutenant Jones, I have a request for you,” Liam suddenly exclaimed.

Killian paused in preparing his own plate to look up at his brother. “Aye, Captain?”

“Tomorrow, Sheriff Humbert here will be engaged in matters of security with Lieutenant Smith in preparation for our landing, and as such I would like you to escort the princess for the day. Perhaps you could give her a tour.”

Killian cocked his head. What was his brother playing at?

“But my duties-”

“They will be well catered to. Come now, we cannot leave her royal highness alone to rattle about these timbers, can we?”

“Of course not,” Killian smiled quickly, “I’d be happy to provide an escort.”

Emma suddenly added, “If the lieutenant cannot be spared Captain, I’m sure that I can-”

“Nonsense,” Captain Jones interrupted, “The matter is quite settled.” Then he raised his glass and it was clear further discussion on the matter was impossible.

***

The candles had worn down, their wax trickling along their length and beginning to gather in small peaks at the base of the candlesticks. Plates and dishes had been cleared and all that remained of the dinner were the small coffee cups that had been brought out after dessert. Now close to midnight, the guests finally retired and gave their thanks to the captain for his hospitality.

As the door shut, Killian clenched his jaw. “Brother, may I speak freely?”

“Of course,” Liam replied as he made to sit.

“What are you doing? Why am I now to play nursemaid to our royal guest?”

Liam chuckled, “Come now, I thought you’d be happy! A whole day to admire her fine eyes.”

“I have much more important tasks to attend to.”

“And I am as dedicated as any man to my position as captain, but even I know a man occasionally needs to occupy himself in other manners. And I find the way she makes you blush rather amusing.”

“I do not-” Killian began before he stopped himself. Liam was teasing him, he had the same look in his eye that he had had since childhood when he was trying to embarass his brother. “Liam, as your subordinate I must follow your orders but as your family I must tell you to cease this.”

Liam lay back into his chair, interlocking his fingers behind his head as he studied the other man.

“You really do care for  her, don’t you?” he wondered, shaking his head. “Of all the women for you to fall for,” he sighed.

“I haven’t, I mean I’m not-” Killian balled his fists in frustration. “Whatever I feel or do not feel for the crown princess, it is of no importance - you and I both know that. And by placing me in her vicinity you only continue to increase my vexation.”

Liam placed a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder and Kilian’s posture softened at the gesture. “Perhaps you doubt your attractions.”

“How so?” Killian asked, a brow raised.

“It is not beyond the realm of possibility that you could be a genuine suitor to the princess.”

Killian balked at the idea, creasing his brow and replying, “Are you mad?”

“You may not be a traditional choice - it is true you have no royal blood, but the princess does not seem the most traditional type.”

“And this is your advice to me? Make a fool of myself by throwing myself at her feet and begging leave to woo her? Please brother, you must stop with this foolishness.” Killian stared at his brother, begining to wonder just how much wine he had consumed that evening.

“All I say, dearest brother, is do not deny yourself the possibility.”

Sighing, Killian shook his head, “And in response brother, as wise as you are, I dare say in this area you are not best placed to offer advice.”

Then rising quickly from his chair, he made off back to his cabin.

***

The next day a turn of events had led to the tour of the decks of the  _ Jewel of the Realm _ being postponed. Instead, a day at sea passed in quiet solitude thanks to the fickle nature of the early autumn weather. What had begun as a clear and bright morning, soon ceded into quite the squall - battering the hull with sharp, cool rains and leading Captain Jones to confine the passengers to their cabins until the situation improved.

Emma had reluctantly agreed to this condition after some pressing from the sheriff and the princess and her lady in waiting spent their time easily enough playing cards and reading some of the books they had packed. Ruby had also decided to spend some part of their confinement extolling the virtues of the dear Mr. Humbert. For her part, Emma replied with her usual rebuffs and sighs until her friend became bored and dropped the subject, though the princess knew it would be a miracle if Ruby could get through the remainder of the journey without recommencing her recommendations. 

Alas, it was not the sheriff who had turned the princess’s head. Instead, quite involuntarily, she found herself again thinking of the dashing young lieutenant in his smart navy uniform. The uniform with gold braiding that added a rather cavalier air and contrasted most pleasingly with those blue eyes of his that she seemed unable to forget. Over a game of duets, she quietly conceded to herself that thoughts of the officer would be quite frequent now that they were traveling together within the confines of a ship’s hull.

Thankfully, the next morning brought some respite, with the thudding sound of rain having stopped and the rocking motion provided by the heavy winds easing considerably. Emma woke, and drowsily she dressed, relishing in the freedom of preparing herself for the day without a maid around. Without a clock in her cabin and not being able to find her wristwatch had left the her quite unsure of the time but the sun was rising and after so many hours hidden away in her cabin she decided now was as good a time as any to explore her new home for the next week.

Loosening the heavy brass lock, she smoothed down her skirts as she prepared to step into the dark hallway. The small lanterns that lined the length of it were dimly lit, even more so than the thin morning light of her cabin, and she narrowed her eyes as they adjusted to the darkness.

She was not two steps out of the cabin when she heard a door along the hallway slam shut. Startled, Emma gasped loudly as she spun in the direction of the noise. The darkness masked the culprit for a moment, until-

“Your highness.”

The voice of a surprised Lieutenant Jones filled the few yards between them and she took an automatic step forward, just as she noticed the officer was not quite dressed - his shirt open at the waist and cravat hung around his neck, his hair ruffled and jacket hanging over his arm.

“Lieutenant,” she nodded, not quite sure what to say as her eyes were drawn to the parts of the lieutenant revealed by his partially undressed state. All that skin and hair and-

Suddenly, he seemed to realize his situation and began clawing at the edges of his shirt, drawing them together as he frowned and stuttered, “My apologies… I, um, well-” he took a deep breath, “I’m on my way to check the first shift before breakfast.”

The hallway was heavily perfumed by the oil of its teak wood walls and combined with the darkness, there was a strange kind of intimacy clinging in the air. They were quite alone. “Yes…” she paused, trying desperately to draw her eyes away from the still exposed parts of him.

“We may begin our tour after you have eaten?” he asked quickly as he attempted to fix his buttons.

“Yes, of course… best be on your way then,” she quickly added. He nodded and quickly bowed, dashing away into the enveloping blackness of the corridor as she took a chance to catch her breath.

Some time had passed since she had seen a man barely dressed and she had felt the quickening in her pulse that arose from such attractions. And even more than that, she now knew that as well as having a handsome face beneath his shirt he was just as attractive. While it wasn’t an unwelcome sensation, at the same time she wished it away. No good could come of it. 

After allowing herself a few minutes of composure, she turned and walked in the opposite direction of the lieutenant.

***

Thankfully, by they time they met again, Ruby had roused herself and joined the princess to breakfast. Killian had found them together and began the tour with an exploration of the more accessible parts of the hold. Emma feigned interest in the details of the grain storage room and the stacks of sailcloth and rope piled high in another area. Much more interesting was the armoury with its collection of cannon balls and pistols all neatly stacked and ordered as she would have expected of the military. She was reminded that the  _ Jewel  _ was above all a military ship and just how dangerous their missions must often be. And that made her think of the danger Lt. Jones must have been in during the war. And how brave he must have been to rise to such a rank at such an age.

Throughout these interactions, although he was on her mind, Emma had managed to keep herself at a distance to the sailor by ensuring Ruby was always placed between them, though the lady in waiting seemed determined to try and push them closer to one another. When they walked along the corridors she would linger behind the pair, when they entered rooms she would push Emma forward so they were alone for a moment and on one occasion she had simply wandered away and it had taken Killian at least ten minutes to locate her. She was not very subtle.

As they climbed the stairs that led to the deck, Killian was called away by a crewman  and Emma confronted her friend. “Desist Ruby, I know what you are doing.”

“I have no idea of what you speak,” Ruby sang, patting down her hair as they reached the open air.

“I’m not interested in the lieutenant. Or the sheriff. Or any other man you are trying to fix me upon.”

“Emma, where is your sense of fun? We’re away from home on a ship in the middle of the ocean - it’s quite romantic! I’ve already written Dr. Whale quite the thrilling letter to send him when we dock.”

“Then I suggest you bide your time writing more letters than pushing me towards any man who comes within six feet of my person.”

Ruby didn’t respond, but arched an eyebrow at Emma and gave her a rather knowing smile.

“Oh, my goodness, I suddenly feel faint-” Ruby pressed her hand to her forehead, swaying slightly. It was only then that Emma saw that the lieutenant returned.

“Ruby…” Emma hissed as her friend swayed dramatically.

“I must rest, I think,” the brunette continued, fluttering her lashes for added effect as the officer watched with a look of concern.

“Well madam, if you are in need I’m sure I can find a crewman to escort you…” he said, gesturing towards a group of sailors who were nearby.

“No need,” Ruby quipped, shaking her head, “I can find my own way.”

And with a wink, she was gone.

Left alone, there was a brief pause, Emma’s heart skipped a beat-

“So, shall we?” Killian asked, gesturing to the aft of the ship.

“Why yes,” she smiled thinly, heading in the direction he had indicated.

***

He doubted a more thorough inspection of the deck had ever been given. Almost every plank - every nail even - must have been pointed out to the princess. She nodded politely and asked the occasional question. Of course, she had not mentioned their meeting that morning and she kept a safe distance between them as they walked. Just as she would with any officer escorting her. This all made perfect sense to Killian and further confirmed everything he believed: whatever informality that had passed between them previously, was a lapse in proper behavior. Their difference in rank was unsurpassable.

Emma, for her part, tried to keep up and pay attention to the lieutenant’s description of how each part of the ship worked and the lists of numbers he seemed to reel off with ease. He was most diligent and dedicated, and the passion which he clearly had for the ship was quite inspiring. When he talked about her, his eyes shone and his chest puffed up proudly. She wished she had that; that fervor and passion. She certainly admired him for it.

“When did you decide you wanted to be a sailor, Lieutenant?” she asked when they had paused by the gunwale to admire the ship’s sails from their best advantage.

“Oh,” he fumbled, not quite expected a question about himself. “It was so long ago it seems hard to remember, your highness.”

And right then, as much as Emma heard her father’s reminder of her duties still ringing in her ears, she only wished to be normal. Just for a little while.

“Could you call me Emma, Lt. Jones? ‘Princess’ and ‘your highness’ just feel so stiff and formal, especially in such close quarters as these.”

If her question had startled him, this request doubled the effect.

“But it wouldn’t be quite right, your highness, our difference in rank-”

“Rank,” she sighed, “Titles and formality and propriety - oh goodness can I ever escape it?” Suddenly she remembered herself and blushed deeply as she glanced at Killian. “Oh my, I’m sorry, I just…”

“I understand, I think. It must be difficult.”

“I feel wretched for complaining, I see the lot of so many others who have much more trying lives.”

Killian smiled softly. “Every man - and woman - is entitled to their own burdens, however inconsequential they may seem to another.”

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”

“I will happily call you by your given name, if you could lend me the same courtesy?” he asked.

“Killian,” she nodded.

“Emma,” he smiled.

And all at once, his earlier certainty about their differences seemed now all the more uncertain.

The pair turned and gazed across the expanse of blue; no land on the horizon.

“I do love the ocean,” she confessed. “Not that the chance to explore it is afforded to me often. It’s so open and free - so full of possibility.”

“I believe you have understood the calling of any true sailor,  _ Emma _ . The sea, it’s like home to me.”

“I wonder what that feels like.”

“Think of your castle and your kingdom - something akin to that.”

“No,” she shook her head, “I don’t think that is quite the same.” Because as much as she loved her kingdom and the beautiful home she had grown up in, there was something missing. She didn’t yearn for it the way she thought one ought.  “Was it your brother who influenced your career choice then, or was it just as you say - the call of the sea?”

He smiled, “Both, I’d say. I’ve always looked up to him and wanted to be like him. Since I was a child. We were alone, just the two of us. Liam always took care of me and ensured we were never parted. I owe him so much.”

“I sometimes wish I had a sibling closer in age,” she admitted.

“It has its benefits, though sometimes it can be a little trying.”

“But you wouldn’t be without him.”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Your highness!”

It was the sheriff, he was striding quickly over the deck towards the them. Killian felt a familiar pang of jealousy as Emma turned to the other man. 

“Milady, lunch is ready.”

He gave Killian a brief nod of recognition but was already offering his arm to escort the princess to their meal.

“Oh, well then;” she turned and gave a radiant smile to her tour guide. “I quite enjoyed seeing the ship, she’s lovely.”

“Then perhaps-” he began, before biting back the words on his tongue.

“What?” she asked, pausing and looking at him curiously.

“You expressed an interest in the sea, if you would like to learn a little more, I could teach you. I’m sure I could spare an hour or two. Though only if you wanted.”

A chance to learn more of the ship (and of its dashing lieutenant)?

“I’d quite like that. Yes, that would be wonderful.”

**

The following days saw them fall into a routine of sorts. Emma would breakfast with Ruby, her friend would then feign some kind of swoon which left Emma to while away the time in her room reading or taking some air on the deck. And she would wait, watching out for his approach (she was learning the pattern of his footsteps it seemed) for Killian would always find an hour where he wasn't needed each morning and afternoon. Bringing with him charts and maps and teaching her the basics of navigation and setting a course, he would spend the time with her talking and answering her questions.

It was a revelation:  _ he  _ was a revelation. The twinge of attraction that she felt when he was near was not fading, but it was being easily matched by her growing admiration of him as a person. She was learning that he was modest of his own accomplishments and took praise with an obvious blush. That was not to say he was a shy man. Indeed he was firm in his convictions and beliefs and was happy to debate with her the possible future direction of the kingdom now that the war was finally over. He was educated and knowledgeable about a great many topics. Time seemed to fly by while they talked.

Killian, for his part, found that relaxing in Emma’s company to be easier the longer they spent together. It was easy to pretend that she was not royal. It was even easier to play the teacher as she was such a keen student, asking many questions and wanting to learn as much as he could teach in the time. And for much of the time it wasn’t about a man and a woman, or an officer and a princess, it was instead a meeting of minds of equal intellect. 

He was falling for her more with each passing minute. The fool he was.

Ruby was not unwise to their meetings. She teased Emma mercilessly about him each evening as they dressed for dinner. On the last night of their trip, she was even more determined than usual. As they prepared themselves, she talked endlessly of the lieutenant’s virtues.

“Ruby, please-” Emma sighed.

“Emma, you like him, I can tell! You turn pink whenever you talk about him! Can’t you at least admit that?”

“For what purpose?”

“To show me that some part of your heart still beats beneath that stoney wall you try to hide behind!”

Emma pouted a moment before folding her arms in her lap. “He’s a fine man. Is that sufficient? Are you happy?”

“No. Many a man is fine - what about passion and desire and ardour? Where is that?”

“It’s not something I think about,” Emma lied.

But she had thought about it. Passion and desire had been peppering her dreams since their meeting in the corridor. Not that she’d mentioned that particular detail to Ruby.

“He’s very handsome and I dare say not quite as straight laced as those starched uniforms would have you believe,” Ruby countered, “Tell me you have not thought of at least kissing him?”

And just then she did imagine it - feeling his lips pressed against hers. What would it be like? Soft and gentle? Or firm and sure? She didn’t know.

But she wanted to.

“Fine, maybe I have thought of it. Are you satisfied?”

“Yes,” Ruby grinned, “Perhaps there is hope for you yet my lady.”

***

Emma couldn’t sleep that night. Instead, she’d tossed back her blankets and sat staring out of the small window that looked out into the blackness of the night. The longer she sat, the more awake she felt so she decided that she may as well go up on deck and take some fresh air. She pulled on a simple gown and her cloak and slipped out from her room. But instead of the expected silence of the corridor, she heard the beat of a drum and the shrill twang of a stringed instrument.  _ Music. _

Curious, she followed the sound, creeping further into the bowels of the ship as the volume increased, until she reached a door. Pushing it open she found herself faced with most of the crew supping ale whilst sitting along  benches or dancing to the beat.

“Your hi- Emma!”

Startled, she turned to see Killian standing not five feet away from the door, his waistcoat dispensed with and his shirtsleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“What are you doing here?” he spluttered.

“I might ask the same,” she countered as she unfastened her cloak. “I couldn’t sleep, I heard the music and I followed it.”

The surprise faded a little from his face and he took a few steps toward her so they didn’t need to raise their voices above the music.

“It’s a birthday celebration… for my birthday, in fact.”

Emma grinned, “But you said nothing!”

Killian shrugged, “It hardly comes into regular conversation… well, anyway, the men wanted to celebrate.”

“Aye,” came the voice of another sailor who slung his arm around Killian’s shoulder, “We decided it was about time this one loosened his buttons!”

“Thank you Smee,” Killian replied grimly, removing the man’s arm, “Well, as you can see this is not really a suitable place for a lady-”

Emma frowned, “Who said that? Am I not able to make that decision?”

“You want to… stay? I’m not sure the sheriff would be happy about that.”

“Well I would be hardly fulfilling my duties if I did not allow time to properly thank the crew who have facilitated this journey - or indeed my tutor. And though the sheriff does not make my decisions for me, he does not have to know, does he?”

“Perhaps not,” he agreed.

***

Killian could have blamed the ale they were drinking, or the dancing that he had eventually been coaxed into, for the lightheaded feeling, but he knew it was more likely all down to her. With her hair loose in waves down her back and her simple green dress, she was as alive and real as ever. He watched her laugh with the crew and sip from her own goblet procured for her by Smee and he let himself imagine: that if things were different and such a chasm did not exist between them. He knew that she was everything a young woman ought to be and more. She had set such a high precedent that he doubted he would ever meet her equal. 

The song came to an end and Emma wandered back to where he sat, placing her cup on the table and smiling broadly.

“I’m a little warm and I think I’ve had too much ale, perhaps you could escort me to catch some air before I return to my cabin?”

“Of course,” he nodded, more than a little sad that the night and indeed the week was drawing to its inevitable end.

***

Killian pulled on his coat as they made their way onto the deck. The princess was ahead of him, her cloak billowing behind her as she took the steps with practiced ease. Finally they found themselves in the open air.

Emma gasped as she looked up. There were so many stars visible. It was magical. A sense of calm and wonder descended over her as she walked across the timbers. Her cheeks were warm from the ale and dancing. She felt the happy buzz of alcohol thronging in her veins. It was a perfect, unexpected evening. 

“This is my favorite time to be on deck,” he admitted as he came to stand beside her. “Only the watchman to share the space with and then miles and miles of nothing. Makes one feel so small.”

“Small but privileged,” she amended.

“Aye, indeed,” he nodded. “Have you enjoyed yourself, Emma?”

“Tonight or in general?” she asked.

“Either,” he shrugged with a smile.

“Then it’s a yes on both counts. I barely ever get to leave the kingdom, never mind be afforded such freedom as I have on the  _ Jewel _ . I treasure it.”

“You are carefully guarded, Emma, but that is understandable, what with the war.”

Emma clutched the wooden handrail, “Aye, but will it ever end? Sometimes I feel more like a piece of chattel to be protected than a person.”

Killian joined her, standing at her side and watching the water ripple in the moonlight.

“The _ sheriff  _ seems very interested in _ your  _ well being.”

“Well that is  _ his _ duty,” she sighed, “Though Ruby wishes he were interested in more than just that.”

Killian remained quiet.

“She thinks him to be in love with me,” she continued, letting the alcohol loosen her tongue.   
“And you?”

“Am I in love with him?” she asked, turning her head.

“Yes - no - I mean, what do you think of him?” Killian fumbled, his heart skipping a beat as he waited her her to answer.

“He’s a good man. Loyal and dedicated.”

“Indeed,” he agreed.

“Much like  _ you _ , Lieutenant.”

Her fingers loosened their grip on the rail and she shifted so her hip was now pressed against it and she could look at him with ease. “I have enjoyed your company, Killian. I don’t often make new acquaintances, at least not ones that I freely form.”

Killian took a deep breath. “Then may I also be so bold as to reciprocate? It has been most interesting getting to know you, your highness.”

“ _ Emma, _ ” she reminded him, taking a step closer.

“Emma,” he whispered.

She glanced at his lips, her earlier thoughts about how they would feel returning. 

And she wanted to move those few inches, to reach up on her toes and satisfy her burning curiosity-

“Land ahoy!”

Those thoughts all came crashing down with the cry of the night watchman. She smiled stiffly as she looked back out over the water, the moment lost. 

“We should be docked come morning,” Killian explained quietly, the intimacy of moments before drifting away.

“That is pleasing news,” she nodded. “Well, I think I should rest,” she explained. “Goodnight Killian.”

“Goodnight Emma.”

A moment later she was gone away to fret over that missed moment in her cabin whilst Killian let the sobering chill of the wind remind him why the turn of events was for the best.


	5. The Question

Something had changed within Emma. It was difficult to name and hard to place, but she knew its cause was him.

Arendelle passed by in a blur. Queen Elsa and her sister Anna were gracious, warm hosts and afforded every possible courtesy to their small party as they worked together to secure both kingdom’s futures. But it was all tinged with melancholy. Despite every beautiful sight the city afforded, every delicious dinner and evening of friendship, it all felt… hollow.

Killian was gone and she  _ missed  _ him.

She hadn’t expected to feel this way. It had swept upon her as she had stepped back onto solid ground - when she looked back and saw him watching her from the deck, with a smile and a small nod of parting. And now it was impossible to escape. It was an impossible longing to see his face, hear his voice, to just be in his company one more time.

Her new disposition had not escaped the notice of her lady in waiting.

“Please tell me what ails you Emma, I hate to see you so blue,” Ruby had asked on more than one occasion during their visit.

And she nearly told her. The words were on the tip of her tongue-  But Ruby wouldn’t understand. Emma had spent so long denying any feelings at all towards the officer that a concession now was impossible. Even worse, Emma feared Ruby would delve deeper into her thoughts and perhaps bring about more feelings and understandings that she wasn’t yet ready to think about. Or maybe would ever be.

So every time Miss Lucas asked about her well being, the princess feigned illness, homesickness or fatigue. Certainly not admitting that she whiled away many an hour sitting in the window seat in her quarters, watching the ocean in the distance and wondering where Lt. Killian Jones was now.

***

Six weeks at sea and still Killian was haunted by her. It was like a sickness had claimed him, one that was impossible to shake. It made him lightheaded, despondent and somewhat giddy all at the same time. When he closed his eyes he saw her face - her voice rang in his ears. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

Somehow he had managed to not let this affliction affect his working hours - Lord knows how Liam would have responded to that. Instead he managed to restrict the impact to those moments when alone in his small cabin, when he could think back of the way the moonlight had danced on her skin beneath the stars and how he had almost -  _ almost _ \- kissed her.

He was a fool and he knew it. He’d spent so long guarding his heart and expending his energies towards his career, that his admiration for the princess had come along most unexpectedly. And it was futile and hopeless and reckless to want her. 

And there was nothing he could do about it.

***

Returned to her home by a merchant ship that had been diverted by the orders of queen Elsa, Emma found that her torment did not wane. Instead, she found herself wrapped up in memories of their conversations and the things he taught her. Wanting to relive those moments, she procured a telescope and found some books in the library that explained the constellations and how to navigate by them. Every evening after dinner she would spend some time learning about the night sky above the kingdom and wondering what stars he was looking at at that very moment.

Much to her parents surprise, she also began to attend meetings of the privy council, if only for the faint hope of hearing mention of the  _ Jewel _ ’s whereabouts. It had never been certain when the ship would return, or even if it would. But she still held some hope that she would see him again. And if the smiles of her father when she took her seat at the table warmed her heart, well, all the better.

In fact, her relationship with her father was one thing that seemed to have blossomed since her trip to Arendelle.

As a child, she had been the apple of his eye. He doted on her, as did her mother, teaching her all he knew even when reminded that she had two tutors already for such matters. He insisted that some things a father needed to teach his daughter.

It had taken puberty and heartbreak to drive a wedge between them. Emma began to pull away from him, denying his requests that they ride together or that she join him to play cards or chess. Their time together dwindled to barely a trickle - mainly the daily breakfast that he insisted upon.

She knew her behavior wounded him. She could see it in his eyes. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore and she felt by giving up their close relationship she was somehow softening the blow of her inevitable refusal to take the throne.

Yet now they were growing closer again. She found herself seeking out his company, if only to sit with him and read as he worked. She hadn’t realized how much she missed him. Her father - kind, brave, loyal - and wise. One of the wisest men she knew, that was certain.   
And that’s how she found herself pacing outside his office one evening, a month after her return from Arendelle and over two since she had last seen Lt. Jones. Numerous times, her hand hesitated, formed in a fist ready to knock. What was she here for? What was she going to say to him? Was this all a mistake-

Unexpectedly, the door opened and her father smiled broadly. “Were you going to come in or are you planning on gouging a hole into the floor here?”

Gingerly Emma stepped inside, soaking up the familiar scent of old books and fresh ink. The room was small by palace standards and edged with towering bookcases that housed copies of all the most important books the kingdom held. The space was dominated by a large oak desk with worn edges and, as always, piled high with papers. She smiled looking at it, remembering sitting there was a child and swinging her legs as her father wrote letters or attended to other business for the kingdom.

“Would you care for some coffee?” he asked as he closed the door and returned to his seat behind the desk.

She shook her head and settled into on of the small armchairs that almost abutted the fireplace in front of the desk. A few quiet minutes passed with the sound of pen scratching against paper and the crackle of the small fire. Emma sat up, placing her hands in her lap.

“Father I am in a predicament that I cannot fathom a solution to.”

A look of surprise danced over his brow. He put down his pen and leaned forward in his chair. “It has been many years since you have came to me for counsel, darling, it must be most serious.”

“I fear it is.”

“Are you sick? In some kind of difficulty?”

She shook her head. “I am not afflicted by any rational illness…”

“Then tell me, how I can help you?” he asked softly.

Oh indeed, how could he help? She did not rightly know. Shaking her head, she replied, “I know not. I’m scared that everything I have held true to be falling apart before me. The ground is no longer firm, my mind not my own.”

“And what has caused this feeling?”

Pausing, she let her eyes drop to where her hands were twisting in her lap. “Someone has come into my life and I find myself quite bereft at the thought of them no longer being part of it.”

“And why would that happen?”

A brief smile passed her lips as she thought of Killian on the deck of the  _ Jewel _ , in his element on the sea. “They are not the kind to remain in one place for long.”

The king seemed lost in thought for a moment. Emma wondered if she had said too much-

“Emma, am I right in understanding that this relates to your trip to Arendelle? Your mother and I have noticed the change in you.”

“Change?” she asked, her voice becoming very small.

Her father smiled softly. “You seem preoccupied, but also less burdened somehow. And your renewed interest in the kingdom has not been missed. It is like a breath of new life has been passed through you.”

Emma bit back a wave of tears. All the pain she knew she had caused her parents over the years, it was all written on his face, slowly being washed away by the smile that was now crinkling at his eyes.

“We missed you,” he admitted.

“I’m sorry father,” she whispered.

The king stood and made his way around his desk and sat on the nearest armchair to her. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Emma. I know how hurt you were. I just didn’t know how to help.”

Smiling, Emma reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I guess some things are different now- _ I’m  _ a little changed.”

He ran his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand,soothing her like he did when she was a child.

“I need to ask, my love, is this change due to a suitor?”

She shook her head. “Not quite…”

“But someone you wish to be?” he asked.

“I…” and now that the question had been placed to her, she knew the truth of it was, she did want Killian to court her. She wanted him to want her. To cherish her. To… _ love _ her?

“I think I do,” she whispered.

“Then you have your answer. A man worthy of you, who you hold in esteem, is all your mother and I have ever hoped for.”

“Are you suggesting I pursue this gentleman?”

Squeezing her hand once more, he tilted his head slightly, “I’m suggesting you follow your heart and see where it leads.”

_ Follow your heart. _

Emma nodded, leaning over and giving her father a hug.

“Am I able to inquire of the name of this man who has you so taken?” he asked as they pulled apart.

She felt herself blush the color of beetroot at the question. “Okay sweetheart, I won’t torment you on this matter. But I’m here, should you need me again.”

***

Four more weeks of thinking. Four weeks of sunrises and sunsets. Four weeks where the weather had chilled and the first frosts had begun to bite.

And then-

_ It was back. _ The  _ Jewel  _ had returned - safe, undamaged, mission completed.

_ He  _ was back _. _

And by the heavens how she longed to see him! Knowing he was so close was more painful than him being so far away, in some part - for she could fathom no obvious reason for visiting him so quickly. Instead, she had to wait. Her father had promised a dinner to welcome the crew back - whether or not that was destined for her benefit she wasn’t sure. 

Since their conversation in his office, she had steadfastly avoided the topic of Arendelle or her time about the Jewel. But even she knew her father must have been curious about the man who has such an effect on his only daughter  Joining the dots, he must have made some assumption that this man may have been connected to the ship.

The dinner was settled to take place the next evening, providing the princess with ample time to prepare - and worry and doubt and imagine- Indeed, the night the ship docked she had barely slept, only succumbing to unconsciousness in the wee hours of the morning. 

That day, Emma bathed and dressed carefully, thankful that Ruby was visiting her grandmother for the week and was not there to offer ‘helpful’ advice. She settled on a blue gown - remembering an offhand comment he had made about it being his favorite color. Her maid twisted her hair into a pile of curls and her hands shook as she put on her earrings and bracelets.

She was going to see him.

And she had no idea what she was going to say.

***

Killian didn’t believe in luck - or the lack thereof - but laid up in his bed with his leg splinted tightly he had to question his own beliefs. He had made it through the journey in one piece, only to have a crewman carelessly release a rope while he was on deck, causing a beam to land on his leg, jostling the knee joint and rendering him unable to walk. At any time this would have been an inconvenience - the surgeon had insisted on at least a week’s complete rest. But the real vexation had been in his inability to attend the palace with the other officers and as a result delay any chance of seeing Emma again

***

He wasn’t there. Her heart had dropped into her stomach when she realised. It had taken all her restraint to not march up to Captain Jones and demand to know his brother’s whereabouts that instant. Instead, she had sat through two full courses of soup and seafood before she was able to ask, as casually as possible, where his ‘missing crew’ were.

“Ah, well the ship must still be manned, your highness, a skeleton crew even when in dock. But if you were referring to _ Lieutenant  _ Jones, I’m sad to tell you he suffered an injury upon docking the Jewel - a silly accident indeed, but it has rendered him unable to move around freely and he has been confined to his rooms at the barracks.”

Hurt? Killian? Her heart raced at the news: no matter how the captain tried to downplay the injury, she knew she would not be satisfied until she saw for herself.

“Please send my regards and a wish for a speedy recovery,” she replied, trying to mask her concern.

“I’m sure my brother will be most pleased to hear that,” he nodded, a knowing glint in her eye that made her fidget in her seat.

The rest of the dinner passed more slowly that she could have like - speeches and toasts and much good cheer, all parties clearly much relaxed. But Emma was preoccupied with thoughts of Killian lying injured in his bed. Rationally, she knew he was not mortally wounded, but she was still vexed by her inability to see him right then and also the very real fear that it could have been much worse.

Then as the dessert wine was poured and the men prepared to retire to the drawing room, Emma had an idea. A crazy, wonderful, foolish idea which would not only help protect Killian from further injury but also keep him by her side.

She had to see him. Now.

***

The last person Killian had expected to see stepping through his doorway was Emma. The maid must have not realised who she was when she knocked on the door and announced he had a visitor. Thankfully, while it was late he had not yet retired to bed and was instead sat in an armchair in the small living room of his quarters, reading whilst absentmindedly rubbing at his damaged knee.

“Your highness,” he exclaimed, struggling to stand

“Please, don’t stand on my account,” she replied, a tight smile on her face as she removed her bonnet and placed it on a small table by the door. “I heard you were injured.”

“Yes milady,” he nodded, still utterly confused by her presence, “I have been assured of a full recovery, but for at least a few days I will confined to quarters. You need not fear, therefore, for the horses in the kingdom, I shall be doing no riding on this furlough.

Her smile warmed briefly, before it was quickly replaced by a serious look. Emma took a few steps closer to where he sat, the light of the fireplace setting her in a warm glow. Killian was just about to address the issue of her attending to him at such a late hour when she spoke.

“I’ve missed you,” she suddenly uttered.

“You have?” he asked, his chest swelling with something like hope.

She nodded, her expression softening. 

“And I’ve struggled in vain and  it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

In that moment, there was no other possible words that could have surprised Killian more than the ones that she spoke. He pushed himself up in his chair, mouth wide in surprise.

“Of course,” she continued, “Such feelings result in matrimony and I am most certain that we could very happy together, despite all my usual reservations about the union. I do feel we are matched in temperament and outlook.” She paused and took a deep breath.  “Some will say, with some validation, that you are below the station of that to marry into royalty, but it should not matter too much - there need be no mention of you and your brother’s humble beginnings. I dare say the announcement of my marriage will be most welcome in any form - you see it is expected of me.” She turned and began to pace about the small room. “You will, as you understand, need to resign your commission before the wedding - I’m sure father will find you some suitable position within the naval fleet on land. It could not be proper for a prince consort to be off sailing most of the year, now would it?”

The tumble of words had left her cheeks a little flushed, but she turned back to face the officer, wringing the gloves in her hands, watching him expectantly. Killian for his part, remained stony-faced.  _ She loved him. _ She wanted to marry him. And that should have been enough but it wasn’t. In her speech she had revealed too many of her own truths for him to deny. She thought him beneath her- inferior, to be ordered around. She expected his life to bend around her will. For all his earlier impressions that she was different and humble and not at all like she was rumoured to be, her words had made this opinion begin to unravel.

“You forget, your highness, that I have not accepted your proposal,” he replied solemnly.

“Is it not agreeable to you?”

Kilian pursed his lips and looked away from her face, instead focusing on the shadows that danced over the skirts of her dress. “I had thought - maybe I was foolish - that you were different.”

“Different?” she asked in a confused tone.

“Are you aware of how you sound, your highness? Of the words with which you addressed me which have served more to wound than woo?”

“Killian, I am merely speaking honestly with you, I beg forgiveness if that has caused you harm, but you know all my words were in truth.”

He looked up and met her eye.  “And in doing so you have insulted me, my family and my lot in life.”

“No, that’s not what I-”

He held up a hand to stop her.

“And I have a career - a future, maybe my own ship one day! And you would have me throw that away… for what? To be locked up behind those walls that have made you so miserable?”

“I thought…” she began before trailing off. She was hurting. He could tell by the way her shoulders dropped. “I take it I am rejected.”

“I see no way I can accept such an arrangement. I’m sorry if I have given you cause to believe otherwise.”

Cool silence hung in the air as he looked away again, not able to see the look of pain on her face. However much she may have caused him distress, he didn’t wish to harm her more than he must with his words.

“Then I bid you farewell and apologise for inconveniencing you.”

And in a flash of cotton skirts she left.

***

Hot, foolish, angry tears peeled down her face. She ran back to the palace gates, ignoring the guardsman who had accompanied her, covering her face with the brim of her bonnet.

All she wanted was her bed. To press her face into her pillow and let out her frustrations. 

She was a fool. Whatever she had seen between herself and the lieutenant was clearly some cruel kind of fantasy. _ He had rejected her. _ Not only that, he seemed to deny anything between them. Perhaps she was blind, had imagined the attraction-

And looking back, she thought over her words and winced at the memory of how spoiled and entitled she must have appeared. Demanding him make so many concessions. Mentioning his rank and family! Of course he thought her spoiled and haughty. She was clearly just as the courtiers said. Oh how he must hate her now!

But such thoughts did her no servce. He didn’t want her and there was nothing she could do about it.

***

He snuffed out the fire with water from his washbowl. The room still smelled like her perfume and it tormented him. How could one short conversation turn from utter joy to utter despair so quickly?

She wasn’t who he thought she was. 

But even as all the reasons for the rejection hung prominently in his thoughts, he couldn’t help but remind himself that  _ she loved him _ . 

He was confident in his decision. He couldn’t give up all he had worked for. He couldn’t be joined in matrimony with a woman who resented his humble roots. He couldn’t change himself for her.

But maybe a small part of him understood that despite it all, he loved her too

**A/N: Apologies for any typos, it hasn't had a final beta yet. I will repost when it does!**

**And I'm not sure if I'm going to continue with this fic. It's my least popular one right now and I'm in two minds about whether to complete it or focus my efforts elsewhere. So if you do want me to continue, let this know so I can decide!**


	6. The Lesson

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your notes and comments telling me you wanted this to continue. I had no idea so many people were reading. Apologies for the delay, there were many reasons, but I finally got there. Big thanks to my wonderful beta, nickillian/Ztofan.**

A day later, that conversation seemed like a dream. He had slept fitfully, waking long before dawn and watching the slow sunrise as he digested the evening’s events. Not long after the first cock crowed, he was again visited by the naval doctor.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but is seems the damage is more serious than we first thought,” the physician explained quietly.

Scowling, Killian stood, “It is fine, look, I can quite easily-” his words were cut off as he placed pressure on the damaged joint, hissing in pain.

“Now that the swelling is subsiding, it is clear that the ligaments have been affected. They need to heal.”

“Does it mean, I mean-” Killian swallowed hard, his thoughts suddenly turning darker, “Will I regain its use?”

The doctor smiled thinly, “You are young and healthy. Follow my advice and it will give you every chance of regaining full use of the joint. We need to build you up slowly to give you the best chance.”

“So that means…”

“Yes, I’m afraid, I must declare you unfit for full duties, for now.” 

“But the ship-”

The physician nodded, “Sails within the week. I know. I’m sorry Lieutenant Jones, but you must remain ashore until I am sure you are recovered. It is for your own benefit.”

And just like that, the sailor was now marooned. 

* * *

The rejection stung.

Its aftereffects hung around Emma like a dark shroud, flavoring the following days, making her snap at her maids and hide away brooding in her room when she wasn’t needed for any other purpose. A sour mood afforded much time to think and dwell and regret.

Her pride had been unexpectedly wounded. She had been  _ so  _ sure that he felt the same way. Yet, even more sure was she that he could have no other recourse than to accept her proposition. She was the crown princess: royalty! Rich, powerful… her rank could afford him with every pleasure and satisfy his every whim. A thousand men would have given anything for that chance.

But not Killian Jones.

And that thought brought about a trickle of reluctant admiration for the soldier.

Whatever she thought of his opinion of her, she was at least assured of his integrity. That part of him she had not been deceived about. He was as steadfast and true a gentleman as she could imagine.

(Her father. He reminded her of her father.)

But the rest of his character, his manner and treatment of her - had she misread all of this?

Was she really so foolish to have misunderstood so many of their interactions? The way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t aware, his attentions to her aboard the  _ Jewel _ , all of their conversations… had she imagined his affections?

And she couldn’t bear the thought that really he disliked her. That it had all been some act to placate her. Because of who she was. Because of the very title and position which had brought them to cross paths. Did he even see her as a person or merely a spoilt royal?

The very thought turned her stomach.

Later, once the initial pain subsided, anger followed. First, at him: at his disregard for her feelings and the easy way he dismissed her affections. Then at herself. Reflection allowed her to see her own behavior for what it was. Spoiled and petulant. So confident had she been striding into his quarters she could never have dreamed of any other result than an engagement. 

Her earlier torment of wanting him had been replaced by the very real fear that he now hated her.

Yet she could not blame him following her behavior.

Just who did she think she was?

She had to admit, she didn’t know.

* * *

It was debatable whether the ache in his leg or in his heart was more acute.

He was angry. He was confused. He was tormented.

Oh yes, he had made the right decision. She didn’t know him at all if she thought all he wanted was a title and position in the castle. The sea was in his blood.

But God knows how he’d wanted to be able to wrap her in his arms and embrace her proposal with everything in him. For her to love him… it seemed impossible. And, well, it was now.

What a strange sensation. For someone to love him. For someone to declare their affections… for that woman to be the object of his own deep affection and yearning. And for his only possible response to be to rejection in the strongest sense.

Thinking back, he sighed deeply as he thought of her attitude - how she had seemed to think her offer was something he would clamber upon eagerly! Maybe their whole acquaintance was a series of misconceptions and misunderstandings. The thought wounded him, for it was the first time he had felt that spark of intimacy with a woman. And it was doomed to failure, he knew that now.

Thankfully, perhaps, his injury gave him cause to remain in his quarters; his sour demeanor attributed to the confinement and pain. Oh, if only it were known. Of course, telling his brother had been impossible. What would he have said? How could he begin to explain what had occurred. It defied explanation. Killian’s only glimmer of hope fell in the nearing departure of the ship. Another tour of the the waters of the kingdom, a peacekeeping mission this time taking the crew away for at least a few months: months where he was confined to shore.

* * *

Winter was encroaching on the kingdom; the once gentle eastern breezes had turned icy and pinching in their grasp and the first frosts of the season nipped at the grasses early in the morning.

His ship had long gone, departing on its newest mission almost a month earlier. 

Before the departure, Emma had thought, briefly, that she could write him a letter; offer some apologies. But pride and shame had held her pen back, hovering over the page on more than one occasion until  she saw the unmistakeable outline of the  _ Jewel _ leaving port from the highest window of the castle.

And then it was too late. All damage was done and now irreversible. Whatever he thought of her was now to be his final impression of the princess, and that was that.

She’d fallen headfirst into any task which would erase him from her mind. She attended meetings with the council and spent time in the library reading and learning, educating herself about the nuances of Misthaven law that she had thus far shunned.  Most days she rode, increasing the frequency of her visits to the outlying villages, relaying to her parents their condition and bringing relief when she could. Today was to be another of those days and so she rose early, heading to the stables as dawn broke, wary of the shorter periods of daylight that this season afforded.

Quietly she entered and made her presence known to the stable hand before attending to Tess. Nuzzling against her neck, she ran her hands over the animal’s flank, whispering softly to her until the sound of footsteps disturbed her attentions.

“Oh, I’m sorry - _ Emma _ ?”

Her head sprang to face the direction from whence the voice came. Surely it couldn’t be.

“I mean, your highness,” Killian corrected, bowing as well as his maimed leg would allow him, his voice shaking in surprise. The princess was cocooned in a thick, grey cloak, her hair curled and twisted at the back of her neck. No finery of flair. She looked simply beautiful.

“You’re…” A sickening, dull sensation hit her in the gut, their last encounter as clear as when it happened in her head.

He stared, mouth agog, suddenly realizing she had expected him to leave with the ship. “My leg,” he explained, holding up his cane. “I had to stay ashore.”

Concern marred Emma’s features as she inspected the way he was leaning on the cane. “How is it, will you… heal?” 

“They say so,” he nodded,  “but not for some weeks yet. I find myself on land-based duties until then.”

She nodded, all other words escaping her. Her heart raced, his presence both intoxicating and excruciating in equal measure. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to feel.

Killian, powered by confusion and surprise, continued to ramble on, “I’ve been told riding will help me build up strength. I thought it would be good to visit and let them become used to me.” He gestured to the horses, wondering if what he presumed was shyness was actually indifference. Maybe his presence was unwelcome-

“It is good exercise,’ she smiled weakly, her cheeks reddening, but there was a small twinkle in her eye which lifted his spirits somewhat. 

He wanted to ask her more. He wanted to talk to her, the way he had when they were on the ship. He missed that easy conversation and companionship he had felt.

Yet fear stopped him. That, and the still lingering sensation of bitterness and doubt. Who  was she, really- the woman who had snuck into his heart, or the pampered royal who presented herself at his quarters? As much as he wanted to know, he held back, instantly changing his plans to acquaint himself better with the available mounts. He just wasn’t ready to face this uncertainty.

“It is- I mean, I’m glad you’re well, your highness. I’d best take my leave, the admiralty values punctuality over all else.”

“Emma-” she reminded him, but before the word was complete he had bowed and turned to make his leave.

And now every thought and feeling about Killian Jones that she had resolved to be sure of, was now thrown into disarray.

* * *

The next day, at the same time, he repeated his journey to the stables.

He hoped she would be there. He shouldn’t have, but he did. He was foolish, indeed, but he couldn’t quell the feeling in his heart that had begun to flicker when he had seen her again.

Dressing with more care than he would admit, he pulled on his thickest coat and hurried. The sun was just peeking over the horizon as he made his way through the castle walls, nodding to the guards who had begun to recognize him during his time ashore.

The stables were thick with the smell of damp straw and horse dung; that earthy smell clinging to his nostrils as he stepped inside. He held his breath as he walked carefully over the cobbled floor, peeking into the darkened corners that were barely lit by the oil lanterns that had just been lit by the stable hands. But no matter how hard he looked, she wasn’t there.

The fool. Of course she wasn’t.

* * *

Seeing him again hadn’t seemed quite real. It had taken a trip to the admiralty office and some discreet enquiries to ascertain that Killian Jones was indeed ashore and she had not been subject to some confusing apparition in the stable the day before.

He was real. He was there. And she didn’t know what to do.

Despite this, she still found herself drawn to the stables the next day, dressing before the brightness had peeked over the horizon, pulling on her most comfortable riding boots and gloves, telling herself that she merely planned to ride again. That Tess needed the exercise. That she needed to ride as much as possible before the snows fell. That she wasn’t going to the stables in the slight hope that he may be there again.

The stalls were lit as she entered. The stable hands rose well before dawn to feed and muck out the numerous horses - be they for transport or working the nearby fields, or the army mounts that were stabled there.

Inside, she headed straight for Tess’s stall, tunnel vision marring her perception as she concentrated on her feet. But then she heard the sound of a heavy sigh and looked up just in time to see Killian Jones doing the same.

The breath escaped his chest quicker than he could recover it, his whispered, ‘your highness’ was barely audible above the animal sounds. He was so sure she wasn’t there. Yet then she was. A vision as lovely and welcome as a man could wish for.

Emma bowed softly, not bothering to correct his address, instead enjoying the look of adoration that passed over him as she took a step closer and into the illumination of a nearby lantern. At least that’s what it appeared to be, and who was she to deny her weary heart a seed of hope?

“Lieutenant,” she replied as her heart fluttered in her chest. Just merely being near him set her pulse afire. “It’s…  _ good _ to see you.”

“As it is you,” he echoed. A moment passed where both were unsure what to say, his feet felt firmly rooted on the spot where he stood whilst she was struggling to gather her senses.

Emma lowered her eyes, building the courage to say more when Tess neighed loudly, startling her and necessitating she walk to her stall and soothe her favorite mare. 

“She seems skittish, perhaps it is my presence,” Killian said as she turned her back to him.

She quickly looked back over her shoulder, “No, she’s just eager for some exercise. I’ve rather spoilt her in that regard as of lately.”

“Then I should let you do so, far be it for a lowly sailor to get in the way of a royal horse’s needs.”

He made to move, feeling all the awkwardness of the situation with acute clarity.

“Wait,” she started, holding up her hand, until she realized that that sounded awfully like a command. “What I mean is, how would you feel about accompanying a lass? My father insists I take at least one other on my rides. I think a naval officer would be more than sufficient.”

Killian was wordless for a moment, certainly surprised at the offer and even more so at his own willingness to accept it. He had vowed to be stronger. He had convinced himself that his dealings with the princess were now as no more than one time acquaintance.

“I think… I think that would be agreeable. My physician will be pleased with such a plan.”  _ And I too,  _ he thought as she called for a stable hand to help them prepare the horses.

* * *

They rode together. Well, she rode and he tried to keep pace. He’d hoped that maybe there would be a moment or two to talk; to take further stock of the princess who was more a mystery to him now than on their first meeting. But it didn’t happen. Instead they galloped across field and over fence, him ignoring the twinges in his knee, her keeping a pace that was just enough to make him breathless.

Arriving back at the stables some two hours later, he was saddle sore and pink cheeked. They handed their reigns to the stable boys. Still only a few words had passed between them. Both were hesitant and cautious in their speech, raw feelings on each side preventing the conversation that both truly needed to happen.

“Same again tomorrow?” She asked hopefully, as she removed her riding gloves. 

There was only one possible answer for him to give, drawn to her as he was, like a moth to a flame, “Aye, that would be agreeable.”

And so it became a regular occurrence, only halted by one morning when he had arrived at the stables to find a note from the princess, apologizing and explaining that her brother was unwell and she was needed to care for him. He kept the note, written in her fair hand, folded and slipped under his pillow.

Aside from that one occasion, they had fallen into the routine of an early morning ride before most of the kingdom had awoken. As the days passed by, their pace slowed somewhat. She began to open up - pointing out landmarks and childhood playing spots. She talked mostly, he listened, drawing out the meaning hidden beneath her words and behind the lingering glances that passed between them.

One day, a fortnight after their first ride, they had stayed out longer than usual, leaving the horses to graze in a small clearing atop a hill that overlooked the kingdom. “I’ve never been to this place before,” he admitted, finding a rock to sit on and stretch his leg.

“Well, it’s not on many trails,” she shrugged, crouching down in a mossy area to his left. “But my father used to bring me here as a child. You see, it gives the best view of the extent of the kingdom. On a clear day it’s almost possible to see the mountains in the distance.”

“And to all this you are heiress,” he replied.

She turned over her shoulder and gave him a small smile, “I suppose you could say that. But in many ways it is more of a burden than some monetary inheritance.” She shifted, stretching out her legs as she thought back to the visits to this place in her childhood. “Father used to use this place to remind me of what lay ahead - of my responsibilities.”

He studied her, watching her eyes wander over the vista before them. She wore a pained expression, her forehead crinkling between her brows.

“Anyway, now I like to come here and think.”

“It seems a good place for that.”

She pointed to a small group of houses, about 20 miles in the distance he guessed. “Remember that day I found you in the woods? That’s where I had been. It’s a small village, only a handful of families live there.”

“Do you go there often?”

“I visit from time to time, try and help where I can, with coin or food. I know some of our people struggle.”

“That is very worthy work.”

She smiled softly, letting the compliment wash over her and warm her from within. Emboldened from the gentle nature of their conversation, she took a chance; “Actually, I plan on visiting that very place tomorrow. You could accompany me, if you are not needed elsewhere.”

Through dark lashes, she watched him and waited for his response. Short riding jaunts were one thing, but this was something entirely different. 

The decision was twofold. He thought of his days spent, filing musty books and trying to look occupied at the admiralty headquarters. And determined that a minor relapse of his injury would be the perfect excuse for such an absence. It felt to him like she was offering an olive branch; a way to let him into her world, just a little. 

“I would be honored to come with you,” he agreed.

“Then it’s settled. Dawn, at the stables.”

* * *

The ride took long enough for the sun to rise high enough in the sky to penetrate the canopy of trees above the forest through which they traveled. Emma dictated the pace, but he could tell she was taking the journey slower than usual in an unspoken concession to his injury.

As described, the village was small. A handful of stone dwellings  grouped around a small clearing which held a well and a hitching post, where they left the horses. In their saddle bags were the provisions that the princess has procured for them -oats, cheeses, salted meats - goods that she explained lasted well and supplemented what the villagers grew in the nearby fields.

Walking amongst the villagers was something of a revelation. Killian did not know if the people knew of the woman’s royal status or if they chose to ignore it. Every greeting from her highness was met with a warm smile and sometimes a soft embrace. The smiles and soft words she gave in reply cast a sunny glow on her complexion, lifting her often concerned expression into one almost akin to innocence and joy. Talking with these people, spending time with them - it seemed to bring out a whole other side to her that he could never have expected. She was more humble, caring and perceptive than he had realized.

As the last of the food - and coin purses that she had hidden beneath her cloak - were distributed, they were approached by an older woman. “Back again, my lady?” She smiled and Emma bowed softly. 

“Not as soon as I would have liked though, madam.”

The other woman nodded softly. “Well, tis good to see you. And with a handsome young man in tow this time. Is this your beau?”

Emma reddened visibly as she caught Killian’s eye. 

“Oh, no madam, this is Killian. A friend.”

Were they friends now? She dearly hoped so.

The gentleman, for his part, felt a twinge in his gut at the woman’s words. Her beau. He could have been her beau. He could have been much more than that. 

(Maybe he still could.)

Killian bowed with a small flourish, “A pleasure, my lady.” 

The older woman laughed. “Friends? Is that what the young folk are calling it these days? We used to call it courting.”

Emma opened her mouth to correct the woman, but instead remained silent, casting Killian another quick glance and registering the brief smile on his lips. She reached the for the last remaining purse on her belt and handed it to the woman. “May I buy your silence with some coin and the finest cheese this side of Arendelle?” she jested, raising her brows as the old woman widened her eyes. 

“Cheese did you say?” She smiled as Emma handed her a cloth wrapped package, “My lips are sealed.”

After bidding their farewells, the pair went to retrieve the horses. “Quite the character, wasn't she?” Killian observed.

Emma shrugged, “Indeed, I hope you don’t mind that I-”

“No of course not-”

“-I mean I never meant to insinuate-”

“- I understand, really-”

“-And I would feel awful if I made you uncomfortable-”

“ _ Emma _ ,” Killian said firmly, resting his hand softly on her forearm, “It is fine. I promise.”

She looked up, really looking into his eyes for the first time since the botched proposal. Their blue was startling in the sunlight, the contrast to his tawny skin only serving to increase their intensity. 

“O-okay,” she stuttered, suddenly acutely aware of his hand touching her. She felt hot and breathless. Killian then noticed what he had done, sharply balling his fist, but leaving it hovering over where he had touched her.

And then she did the boldest thing she had done since she foolishly walked into his quarters with the attitude of an overindulged child.

“How about a detour on our return journey? Nearby is a meadow, filled with the Middlemist flower. It’s quite extraordinary and only blooms but a few weeks a year.”

Killian nodded, “Aye. I’d like that, your highness.”

“Emma,” she reminded him.

“ _ Emma,”  _ he echoed with a smile.

Emma. 

The woman he was falling in love with all over again.

* * *

As they rode, they talked. Of politics and history, of scandal and intrigue. He told her about some of the places he had seen on his travels, and some of the less gory battles that had been waged during the war with Queen Regina. She listened and asked intelligent questions, a clear thirst for knowledge making her a most pleasant audience. Before he knew it, they had reached the meadow of which she spoke.

It was beautiful. Soft, pink flowers, twice the size of roses, were dotted across the long green grass as far as the eye could see. The sun was now at its peak in the sky. There was no shadow that fell on the pair, just the pure warmth of late autumn sunshine.

“Some food?” She asked, withdrawing a package from her saddle bag.

The two picked a spot, Emma throwing out her cloak to provide an improvised blanket as they feasted on strong cheese and malted fruit cake.

“Delicious,” Killian sighed, “Thank you.”

“Thank our head cook, Mrs. Davers, she is quite the wonder.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” he smiled, his gaze transfixed by the tendrils of hair that had escaped their confinement and now danced in the soft breeze that swirled around them.

“This place is quite magical,” he continued, letting his eyes linger on the princess as she gazed into the distance at the swaying okay trees that lined the meadow. “Almost like a dream.”

“I dare say so,” she agreed, picking at a slice of cake, “Do you know, most times my own life just doesn’t feel real. 

Killian replied, “Your life  _ is _ quite extraordinary.”

“To some extent, I suppose,” she shrugged, “But most of the time it all feels…” her voice trailed off as she turned to look in the officer’s direction.

Killian’s heart skipped a beat as he saw it in her eyes, the longing. The longing for more but not knowing what form that fulfillment should take.

“Hollow?” he suggested.

“Yes. Like I’m missing something.”

Stretching out his legs, Killian thought back to the times when he had stood on the deck of the  _ Jewel _ , watching the endless ocean, wondering if this was his true calling. If he was destined for some other path. If he had merely chosen that career because of his brother.

“I think we all feel that, at some time.”

“Even you?” She asked, notably surprised.   
He smiled at her confused expression, “Yes. Sometimes I can’t believe that an orphaned boy has made a respectable life for himself as an officer of the royal navy. And sometimes I wonder if I have chosen my true calling.”

“You are a very good officer.”

They looked at each other. Admiration was evident on her face as was pleasure on his. It was the most honest conversation that they had ever had and Emma hoped that at least in some way, it was proving to him that she was not the spoilt, empty woman who had proposed.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“I’m envious of your freedom, Killian. You can make your own choices, free of the barriers that I find myself trapped within.”

“You may be trapped within a gilded cage, your highness, but be assured that the life of a commoner brings with it other hardships.”

Commoner.

The word stung. She remembered how she had dwelled on his humble origins and crumpled a little inside. “Of course, I never meant to imply-”

“Be easy, Emma. I meant no harm.”

Easy silence fell between the pair as they finished their meals. But Emma was restless. Their time together was fast ending and she wanted more.

“Tell me something real,” she asked.

“Real?”

She pulled up her knees and hugged them to her chest. “Something true. Nothing to do with kingdoms and crowns and ships… just about you.”

He smiled, kicking his heel into the dirt as he thought back to his youth.

“When I was a boy I was afraid of the the dark,” he admitted, “I used to cry at night if father didn’t leave a lantern burning. One night Liam locked me in a cupboard and I screamed so hard that my father thought I was being murdered.”

“How lovely,” she giggled, imagining a small dark haired boy being tormented by his older brother.

“I assure you not. I was convinced the monsters under the bed would come and eat me.”

Emma laughed again, the dark thoughts of earlier beginning to lift. “And your father?”

“He gave Liam an earful. And I spent the next week sleeping at the foot of his bed.”

“What kind of man was he?” She probed, tilting her head as she studied the lieutenant.

“When he was around? Good. Kind. Someone I looked up to. But then he left and my feelings… changed. When he left us.”

“I can’t imagine what that is like, to lose a parent… to be...”

“Abandoned,” he finished with a deep sigh.

She nodded.

“I sometimes wonder what happened to the child I once was. I can’t attribute my development to any such trauma as you suffered. But I see the world so differently now.”

“We grow and we change. It’s only natural. Father leaving meant Liam and I had to become young men when we were barely old enough to care for ourselves. It was hard. But we made it and it shaped the men we are today.”

“Good men,” she added, her heart aching for the two young boys left alone in the world.

Killian took a deep breath, “Maybe. But I fear bringing that fate on another. I fear that I would be the same kind of parent as he was. Not good enough.”

“No,” she insisted, shaking her head. The honest, kind man in front of her could never do such a thing. “Hush, don’t say such things.”

He gave her a queer look, one that cut straight into her soul.

“I’m afraid I’m a disappointment to my family,” she revealed.

“Impossible,” he scoffed.

Emma shook her head, “No. Not impossible. I can’t be what they want. I can’t be queen.”

“Why?” He prodded, leaning a little closer.

“I just… can’t. I’m not what the country needs.”

“I beg to differ,” he whispered, looking first into her eyes and then dropping his gaze to her lips. She thought back to that moment on the deck of the  _ Jewel _ when they had almost kissed-

“You have such belief in me?” She asked, raising her chin.

“Someone needs to compensate for what you cannot give yourself, your highness.”

Warmth flooded her body, not from the sunshine, but from his smile.

“Emma,” she reminded him once again

Slowly, her feet stretched out in front of her, her hands falling to her sides. Killian’s breathing slowed, but his heart raced. He was being pulled towards her, an invisible force drawing him closer-

Only to be abruptly halted in his tracks when large, unexpected droplets of rain began to shower them from above.

“Oh no,” she cried, scrambling to gather her cloak and the cloth in which their food had been wrapped. Killian took her hand and pulled her towards the cover of the oak trees where the horses grazed, laughing and wiping away to the traces of the rain as they huddled together in the shelter of the branches.

And it was there, wrapped in the gentle darkness of the forest, that he finally pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

* * *

Smiling, joyful, heart bursting-

Emma rode Tess back to the stables in a blur, Killian beside her, both still with bruised lips from their kiss. A kiss that has lasted until the rain stopped and both were dizzy from the burgeoning emotions. Once inside, they dismounted, both giddy and high spirited as the stable boy helped them. They were heading back into the courtyard, when a messenger approached.

“Killian Jones? Lieutenant Jones?”

Killian nodded, “Aye.”

“You must come quickly. It’s the  _ Jewel _ . It’s been attacked.”


	7. The Risk

The blood drained from Killian’s face. The joy of only minutes earlier, replaced by a cool dread in his veins as he followed the messenger to the admiralty building.

Emma stayed with him, her hand clutching his arm tightly, offering silent comfort, for she could do no more. 

Admiral Taylor was waiting for them, his face grim, a piece of parchment held between his chubby fingers.

“The ship?” Killian asked before he was barely through the doorway.

“In one piece, badly damaged, but still afloat.”

“The crew?”

The admiral’s face fell. “There were some casualties-”

Killian felt his chest tighten.

“But your brother-”

“Yes?”

The admiral passed the paper in his hand to the lieutenant. Emma watched as he furtively scanned the script, his brow creasing as he reached its conclusion.

“A ransom?”

Emma sucked in a deep breath. Captain Jones was being held.

“I’m afraid so,” nodded Admiral Taylor, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pipe. “Pirates, you see. Now that they no longer have funds flowing their way from Queen Regina, they have taken to… other methods of finance.”

Killian shook his head, “But why Liam? Why?”

“His name is well known, Lieutenant. Like it or not, you are war heroes now. And they believe with that, comes a heavy price.”

Emma suddenly spoke up, “But the kingdom does not pay ransoms. It has been that way since my grandparent’s time - it is enshrined in law.”

“Yes,” the admiral added solemnly, “Of this I am quite aware.”

Killian turned to her, his eyes wide, the paper shaking in his trembling hands. “Killian…” she began.

“I...I…” He squeezed his eyes closed, “You should go, your highness. This is not the place for a woman.”

“A woman?” She cried, affronted. “But Killian,  I can help, I can-”

“Please,” he begged, “I ask you to leave and let us think. Your parents will be wondering where you got to.”

He reached up and ran his thumb down her cheek, before picking up her hand and placing a soft kiss on it.

And it was then, she felt her heart break for him.

///

“We know,” her mother explained softly, creases etched into her brow.

Emma’s eyes darted between her parent’s concerned faces. “And what will we do?”

Her father’s eyes flickered to the book in his hands and she felt her heart sink.

“Father-”

“Emma, there is nothing we can do,” her mother replied. 

The king sighed. “It’s true, my love, our hands are tied. It is enshrined in law that this kingdom will not be held to ransom - nor pay one for the release of one of its subjects.”

“And that is it. We condemn him to die. A  _ hero _ . One who saved the lives of so many others?” she cried, her heart pounding. “Captain Jones is a good man, he doesn’t deserve this!”

Quietly, Emma sank to sit in the armchair opposite the fireplace that dominated her parents parlor. The fire within was small but comforting in a strange way. She stared at the crackling logs and their glowing amber hue. She’d never felt so helpless.

“We know you knew him-” her father began, taking a step towards her.

“Knew him? So you’ve already resigned him to his fate?”

Emma shrugged away from her father’s outstretched arms.

“Sweetheart.” Her mother’s delicate hand pressed gently onto her shoulder.

The princess squeezed her eyes tightly closed.

“My love.” 

This time it was her father’s voice, his hand taking hers within it. “These laws apply to all subjects of the kingdom. Even to royalty.”

“Your father is right,” her mother added, “Even if it were one of us, we would not be permitted to engage in negotiations.”

A shudder of anger rippling through her, Emma shook away her parents’ touch. “What is the purpose of being royalty if we have no power? We are weak? Our enemies can just take one of us, with no consequence?”

A second later, her face crumpled and she pressed her palms into her hands.

“Oh Emma,” her father sighed, taking hold again of her hand. This time she allowed herself to be pulled into his arms and held tight, his hand cupping her head, as if she were a child once more. “Shhh,” he soothed.

“I just-” she began. But she was unable to finish, the enormity of the situation crashing down upon her.

Captain Jones was in danger.

There was nothing the kingdom could do.

His life was on the knife edge.

Killian’s brother was condemned to death.

///

Night had long since arrived, the desk clerks long since retired to their quarters, the lanterns in the admiralty office lit, their glass casings scorching hot from the heat of the oil created flames. 

Killian was hunched over a desk, one strewn with maps of the area in which the  _ Jewel _ had been boarded, logs of pirate activity and the letter that had announced Liam’s capture. His fingers ran over the words that detailed the amount they were asking in exchange for his brother.

5,000 gold pieces.

Five thousand! A king’s ransom! Such a sum would take him 10 years to amass…

He’d spent hours racking his brain for ways to raise such a sum. The brothers had no family to speak of, no one to beg assistance with this crisis. And even their meager personal possessions would raise barely one percent of such an amount.

But he could not lose him.

It would be inconceivable…

Killian thought back to when he and Liam were young boys--soon after their mother had passed, and their father abandoned them. Liam immediately took charge, offering Killian as much comfort and assurance that they would be alright--as much as any 14 year old boy could do, anyway. In so many ways, Liam was all he had. All his family. His past. His brotherly love. He’d given him so much. Killian could not give up on him now.

It was with these thoughts echoing in his mind that exhaustion finally consumed him and he collapsed, exhausted, upon his desk.

///

It had been two days since she had last seen Killian. She had gone to the admiralty office on more than one occasion but each time was turned away. They were too busy, she’d been told by a young officer. She needed to let the men get on with their work. 

It smarted. As much as she tried not to let it, she couldn’t avoid it. She’d only just opened herself up to Killian and here he was, seemingly pushing her away.

So after a fitful night’s sleep, she needed air. Without thinking, she had walked to the stables and mounted her horse, stealing away into the first dawn light, before even the stable boys were awake. Emma had no idea where she was going, letting Tess lead the way, her mind too preoccupied. She’d hoped the cold air would rouse her from her dark thoughts, but to no avail. 

The sun was filtering through the evergreen trees that still held onto their needles and leaves when she found herself in the village. It had been just a few days since she had been there with Killian. Yet so much had changed. That small seed of hope she had allowed to blossom between them was already shrinking back into itself. It was almost like that day had never happened.

Preoccupied, she tied Tess to a nearby branch and made her way to the well at the center of the village. It was still early and she saw none of the villagers yet up and about their business. She stared down into the dark depths of the well, half wishing that inside it she would find some hope, some answers-

“Good morning, child.”

A little startled, she looked up to see the old lady she had met here a few times before. She smiled automatically.

“Morning,” she nodded, before looking back into the well.

She heard the woman shuffle closer. “Are you well, child? You look a little ill.”

“I’m not ill,” she shrugged as a tear made its way down her cheek.

“You may not be ill,” the woman continued, “But you are not well. Humor an old woman and tell me what ails you. Is it something to do with that handsome man you brought with you last time? He was awfully smitten with you.”

Sniffling a little, she looked over her shoulder at the lady’s warm smile. She knew telling her would do no good, but her mother had always said a problem shared is a problem halved…

Slowly, she explained the situation, pausing a few times to gather herself when the magnitude of the situation overwhelmed her. It was cathartic to let out the feelings inside.

“And so,” she concluded, “Captain Jones is lost to us. And I fear… I fear Lieutenant Jones may not recover from such a loss.”

There was a moment’s silence before the woman spoke again. “Do you love him?”

Emma looked up, surprised.

“This Lieutenant - the man who looks at you like you put the stars in the sky?”

Emma blushed. “I care about him…” she closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes, I love him. So deeply.”

“I was in love once. My husband and I married young. He was a merchant - such a handsome face and so kind he was.” A sad look crossed over the old woman’s face. “He left us far too early.”

Nodding, Emma felt her body acquire a heaviness she had not yet experienced. It was like her body was crashing in upon itself.

“Did I ever tell you my son is a sailor? A captain, in fact?”

Surprised, Emma looked up. “No…”

“Aye, he docks near here - that’s why I moved to this village. I suppose I could have lived in the port but I’ve always been more at home in the countryside. He happens to be in port now.”

Emma felt her heart race.

“So,” the woman went on, “The kingdom cannot pay a ransom for this man and they seem reluctant to mount a rescue mission.”

“Yes,” Emma nodded, “We do not pay ransoms and they’ve been discussing a rescue mission for days now, to no avail.”

“Hmm,” the woman hummed, threading her fingers together in her lap. “Then I see only one solution. These pirates would not be expecting an attack from their own kind-”

“Your son is a pirate?” Emma suddenly exclaimed.

“Of a sort,” the woman smiled. “And as such, he and his crew are governed by no laws. And you, sweetheart, have been so kind to me and this village...”   
“What are you saying?” the princess asked.

“How about we go rescue your captain?” the woman grinned.

///

It had been a week. The lieutenant’s beard had grown unkempt and he had long since abandoned his starched and shining uniform. Instead he sat at his desk, head in his hands, rumpled shirt pushed up to his elbows, his hair loose from its queue, instead hanging forlornly over his forehead. His thoughts were in disarray, flittering from worries for his brother, to visions of Emma and the memory of their kiss-

Did she really love him, as she had said? Damn, he felt guilty even thinking these things. He should be concentrating on the rescue effort… But he couldn’t help but think of her.

He missed her. They hadn’t talked since the day he had found out about Liam’s capture. He’s seen her briefly across the palace courtyard and she’d smiled sadly for a moment, before disappearing into the castle keep.

He feared she had changed her mind. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about what had happened between them, and as much as the memory of kissing her gave him hope, he still remembered all she had told him of not wanting or needing a man or a marriage. Maybe it had been a mistake-

“You should go home lad, how long since you slept?” Admiral Taylor boomed from the other side of the room.

Killian started and sat up, “Two - no wait, three days,” he admitted as he lifted his body upright. “But I don’t-”

“Killian,” the Admiral replied sternly, “You do your brother no favors by driving yourself into the ground with exhaustion. Sleep. That’s an order.”

Lt. Jones opened his mouth to protest, just as the admiral placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “We will send for you should any word of Liam reach us. I promise you that.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, meeting the other man’s eye as he stood. 

Tired, he unravelled his shirtsleeves and pulled on his jacket before smoothing back his hair and wearily making way for the door that led to the castle courtyard. It was his first taste of fresh air in days and he gulped it down. He really hadn’t realized how shut in he’d been, until he breathed in the outside again. 

Killian was momentarily startled - still so wrapped up in his thoughts -  when he heard the sound of rushed footsteps across the cobbled ground. He looked up and recognized the same messenger, who had brought the news of Liam’s capture. His heart leapt into his throat, his stomach twisted uncomfortably-

“I have news for the admiralty,” the messenger announced, panting.

“Of what?” Killian asked.

“Of Captain Jo-”

The words were barely out of his mouth, before Killian grabbed the paper from his outstretched hand, ignoring the man’s protests as he cracked the wax seal and devoured the note’s contents.

Everything became suddenly quiet.

_ Liam was safe. _

///

The news spread quickly around the admiralty. Sympathetic glances became warm smiles as a palpable sense of relief flowed through the officers stationed there. Within the day, it seemed like the entire kingdom knew and he took to his bed for a long, much needed night of sleep, his mind finally easy.

Well, almost.

That next day, he had arisen with renewed vigour. His brother was to be returned. His leg was now only requiring the lightest of bandages for support. It seemed everything was returning to how it should be.

So, reminding himself that he was a grown man who had fought in many battles, he gathered his courage and sought an audience with her highness. He wished to tell her the news, if she hadn’t already been informed. He wished to see her lovely face. He wished a great many things, if he was truly honest.

But, to his confusion, she was not there. He was met by a maid who explained she had been called away on urgent business to another kingdom with her lady in waiting and it was uncertain when she would return.

Trudging away from the castle, his heart was held in an icy grip. His worst fears cascaded forth. 

Why would she leave the realm? A suitor, he told himself. It must be a suitor. He could see it now. She’d changed her mind about him. Clearly all her earlier ardour was just confusion on her part. Of course. That made more sense than a princess falling for a lowly officer like himself.

Though as much as he tried to tell himself it was all for the best, Killian knew in his heart he was lying to himself.

///

The day Liam Jones arrived back on Misthaven’s shore was a day Killian would be sure to remember until the day he died. Liam had been picked up in Arendelle, though the details of how he had turned up there were sketchy. A navy schooner had collected him, making the journey in double quick time. Killian had begged to be part of its crew but the physician insisted that his leg was still healing and another injury or jolt to the joint would surely see the end to his career. Instead he waited and brooded. Days melded into one another as he spent each day scouring the coastline for any sight of the Misthaven livery. So when he finally spotted the familiar colors, it was almost as if a mirage had appeared. Dawn had barely broken and a thin fog had engulfed the port since the evening before, casting an eerie glow on the waterfront, but he couldn’t mistake the outline of the vessel. 

He was at the dock before he had time to think, his feet moving as fast as his injury would allow him. Panting, he waited impatiently as the anchor was dropped and the gangway was lowered. A few crew alighted first, lashing mooring ropes to the promenade whilst some items of freight were removed in large wooden boxes. Killian craned his neck and reached up on his toes, trying to see his brother. And then suddenly, there he was, just about to disembark.

Their twin blue eyes met, the elder Jones weary and lacking their usual lustre, but still shining with the steely determination that Killian was used to. His brother was barely touching dry ground when Killian pulled him into a firm hug, gulping back a sob of relief. He could tell Liam was thinner than normal, his captivity taking its toll on his physique, but otherwise he seemed in one piece.

“Brother,” he gasped, bunching his hands in the Captain’s jacket as if to reassure himself that this was not an apparition, that he truly had returned. “Are you alright?”

“Killian,” Liam replied, holding him with equal firmness, his chest heaving with barely restrained sobs. “I-” he continued, until his voice cracked. He slid his arm onto Killian’s shoulder as he stood back. “I missed you, little brother.”

“Younger brother,” Killian replied automatically, earning himself a wry grin from the older Jones. He took a deep breath. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Neither can I.”

Killian placed one hand over his brother’s. “It’s a miracle.”

“Perhaps,” the Captain nodded. 

Killian looked closer at his brother. “Perhaps?” he echoed, burning with curiosity. “Brother, the reports we were given were rather light on details. How were you found and rescued?”

Liam released his grip on his brother and shrugged then took a few steps further onto the dockside. “It’s a long and rather complicated story.”

“Which I look forward to hearing,” Killian pressed.

His brother gave him a look. “Later. I find myself quite fatigued from the journey,” he replied with a stiff smile.

Narrowing his eyes, Killian rounded upon his brother, “Liam. What is it you aren’t saying? You never were good at keeping things from me.”

“Nothing,” Liam quipped, shrugging lightly.

“Brother,” Killian warned.

The older Jones eyes sank closed as his head rolled backwards. “I made an oath not to disclose who the persons were...who helped liberate me.”

“But why? I want to thank them, need to know how they--?” Killian exclaimed excitedly, his heart racing.

Liam dragged a hand over his weary face. “I’ve said too much already.”

“Liam!” Killian cried.

The older Jones fixed the younger with a firm look. “Speak to Emma.”

“Emma?” Killian echoed, confused.

“Speak to Emma,” Liam repeated.

And that was all he would say on the matter. Despite how much Killian pleaded on the way back to the admiralty, he was left with silence, leaving Killian under no illusions that this topic was now off limits. Which made it all the more frustrating that she was absent. Where was she? What possible connection did she have with Liam’s rescue?

///

The next days passed by so quickly for Killian, attending to his brother as he was given medical treatment and rest. Although he tried to press Liam for more details of his rescue, he was stubbornly quiet. His instruction to ask Emma about what had happened was easier said than done when he had no idea where she was. So Killian tried to hold in his curiosity, even though it was eating him up inside to learn what possible part Emma had had in this matter.

Liam had been back in the safety of Misthaven for almost a week when they were summoned to dinner at the palace; the king had sent a message the day of Liam’s return, inviting him to the palace once he had sufficiently recovered. Thankfully, most of Liam’s injuries had been tended to on the journey from Arendelle and it took merely some rest and hot meals to bring him back to full strength and respond to the invitation. Of course, this invitation was extended to his brother. Under other circumstances, Killian would have been filled with trepidation: an audience with the King would surely mean his daughter's presence. But she was still conspicuous in her absence; even through his discreet enquiries, he was none the wiser to her whereabouts. So, he dressed in his formal uniform, polished his shoes and took the provided carriage to the palace, all the while still amazed that his brother was there and safe.

Despite avoiding all talk of his rescue, they had spent many hours talking over Liam’s capture. The pirates had been indifferent captors - tossing him some food or a cup of grog from time to time as they sailed to who knew where (for he was kept below decks and had no way to tell day from night, never mind see the stars). He had been hungry and thirsty, but not quite neglected enough to starve, though they did seem to relish in doling out a beating for the most minor indiscretions.

In all, his captivity had lasted just shy of a month. He’d been kept mostly alone, a ploy to deny him any great knowledge of who exactly they were - they were careful to cover their faces with cloth when dealing with him. In this, Liam was forthright and honest. He did not rightly know exactly who had taken him, but it was obvious that the Queen’s defeat had played a crucial role in the matter and that in itself had  consequences for matters of security when sailing in those waters in the future.

The dinner hall was one of the more intimate ones in the palace, with oak panelled walls and the round table set for no more than a dozen. When the brothers arrived, Admiral Taylor and a few other high ranking officers were already in attendance. They took the seats assigned to them by the butler after they greeted the officers and accepted their thankful wishes that Liam was safe. Killian had to bite his tongue; the urge to point out their inactivity in the situation was strong, but not strong enough to break rank, or more specifically to make a scene for his brother in the royal household.

The tension was broken when the large oak doors opened and the presence of the king was announced. The men stood, straightening their jackets as footsteps approached the room.

“Their highnesses Queen Snow and King David,” the butler announced as the couple swept into the room. The men bowed and smiled, almost ready to take their seats, when, “And their daughter, Crown Princess Emma.”

Killian felt his heart drop into his stomach.

She was here.

She was back.

_ She was here.. _ .

Liam must have felt him stiffen by his side, turning to give Killian a knowing look as the younger brother dampened his lips with his tongue. His head spun further as she took a seat a few away from him, her eyes catching his as she went to sit, a hesitant smile at her lips that gave him more hope than he had felt in weeks.

Her hair was swept up upon her head and she wore a powder blue gown that made her look even more lovely than usual. 

A giddy state of confusion passed as the party settled and the first course was brought out. He found it difficult to avoid glancing in her direction with alarming frequency. She was too far away to engage in easy conversation, so the small looks she gave him were all that fuelled him through three courses and a selection of wines. That is, until the King invited the men to retire for brandy and the ladies stood to make their leave.

The queen and the princess bid farewell to the gentlemen in turn. Emma saved his greeting for last. She held out her hand and he took it bowing softly, whispering. “I heard you were gone, with no estimate for your return…”

She glanced around, slowly dropping her hand. “I just returned this afternoon, actually.” She hesitated for a moment, before taking a step closer and adding under her breath, “Meet me in the kitchen gardens, in an hour.” Quickly, she looked him in the eye and then all a sudden she was gone.

///

Wringing her hands, Emma paced among the shrubs, her ears alert for any sounds of movement. She wore her warmest cloak but still felt a chill through her bones. Perhaps it wasn’t from the weather.

Oh my, how she’d missed him. And how he had looked at her across the table? She hoped and prayed he still felt the same…

“Your highness.”

Emma turned around at the sound of his soft, dulcid voice. It sliced through her like a hot knife through butter. Across the dark courtyard, his eyes were intensely blue.

“Sorry I am late, your father-”

“He likes to talk,” she finished, her voice shaking a little.

“Aye,” the lieutenant nodded, taking a few steps towards her. “You are really here,” he wondered shaking his head, “I feared- well, I feared a great many things in your absence.”

Her heart clenched - did he think her absence was related to their relationship - to the moment in the woods?

“Oh Killian, I’m sorry. I would have sent word but…” she sighed, “There wasn’t time. And I wasn’t sure what to say.”

“Where were you?” he asked.

“Arendelle,” she admitted, tipping up her chin so she could match his gaze. “I returned only yesterday.”

Killian nodded, “Arendelle,” he repeated. 

Her heart thudded as things fell quiet.

“Killi-”

“Em-”

“No, you first,” she insisted.

He stepped a little closer to the apple trees that lined the pathway. “Liam will not talk of his rescue. He has said that he was sworn to silence. But he has also said, that if I want to know more, I should speak to you.”

Emma gasped softly, though she had begged the older brother’s silence, even she knew it was impossible between two so close.

“And?” she asked.

“And…” Killian shook his head, “What role could you have possibly had? You yourself said, the royal family does not pay ransoms…”

She clenched and unclenched her hands, rolling the words to reply around in her mind until they fell into some semblance of unity that could explain the unusual turn of events.

“We did not pay any ransom...my role was not exactly an official one,” she admitted, giving him a coy glance that left him with a puzzled expression. Emboldened, she reached out and took his hand, pulling him towards a small wooden bench beneath the trees.

There, she explained in as much detail as she could her dealings in the matter. The connection of the old woman in the village, her pirate son, the plan to rescue him, her trip to Arendelle to oversee the rescue - all under the ruse of visiting her friend, Queen Elsa. Of course her involvement had to be completely hidden. To all who must know, it was merely good fortune that more ‘honorable’ pirates had happened upon the vessel carrying his brother and taken him to safety. No connection could be made back to Misthaven.

As he listened, Killian’s eyes widened. “You risked your crown, that woman risked her son’s life-”

Emma smiled, “He was already a pirate, used to such risks.”

Killian laid his hand over hers. “But why?”

She shrugged softly, “He is important to you… and you… you are important to me.”

“I am?” he whispered.

Shyly, the princess nodded.  “You’re the first person in a long time I’ve ever even believed I could trust.”

“You trust me?” he wondered, his eyes darting over her features.

“Yes,” she admitted. And suddenly all her pent up emotion hit her at once and tears began to form in her eyes. “I was so convinced before I met you that I could never find a worthy man, a man I could trust and see as an equal partner. And then you came along and all my previous certainties began to melt away. You were quite unexpected.”

“As were you,” he chimed in, shimmying a little closer until their knees pressed together.

“So you see, I couldn’t see you in pain and do nothing…”

“You’re a marvel,” he smiled. “A beautiful, wonderful, amazing-”

“You make me blush,” she laughed, mirth dancing in her eyes as the two relaxed into each other’s company and she happily laid her head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Emma,” he told her. Choking back a cry of happiness, Emma buried her hands into the soft wool of his coat.

“I love you too, Killian.”

Looking up at him, as the moonlight danced through his hair and lit up his skin, she had never felt so certain of anything than she was that her love for this man was true. Tentatively, she reached up and pressed her lips to his. As they met, an explosion of joy and passion erupted within her, fuelling the tears that now began to peel down her cheeks as his hands reached up to cup her face and her arms slipped around his neck.

Killian Jones had kissed before, he had in even kissed the princess. But this kiss was a new experience. Bold and honest, with no trepidation or fear, a simple sharing of hearts and hope. He pulled her into his lap as the church bells tolled midnight in the distance and he thought that in that moment he could die a happy man. The woman he loved in his arms and a joy and certainty seeping into his bones that he began to fear did not exist.

They broke apart some indeterminate time later, both short of breath but giddy with expectation.

“What now?” he asked, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

To that, she could only smile and pull him back into their kiss.

///

_ Six weeks later _

The music still bellowed from the ballroom, even though it was well after midnight, but finally they had managed to slip away. A small white lie about aching feet from new slippers and too much wine.

“Do you think they knew it was a lie,” Emma giggled as they made their way upstairs.

“My love, it is our wedding night. I suspect they were waiting for us to make our leave much earlier than this.”

They paused outside the bedroom - theirs now - and kissed, her back pressed against the wall, her skin chill against her pale pink wedding gown.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“A little,” she admitted, running her arms up his smart, formal jacket. “But not enough to wait any longer.”

She grinned and took hold of his hand, pulling him into the room. Finally truly alone, she let herself look deep into her husband’s eyes.

“It was never fair really. I mean, what chance did I have?” she shrugged, “How could I ever not have fallen in love with you?”

“You make a man blush,” he replied, his voice low and enticing, “But I must protest, you are the enchantress who has had my heart since the night we first danced.”

Emma’s breath caught in her throat. “That soon?” she gasped.

“Aye,” he nodded, studying her face, “Perhaps even the first time I saw you, so haughty and disinterested.”

Emma’s face fell a little. “I was hurting,” she frowned.

Killian’s hand went to tip her chin upwards, “Yes, but I saw what you hid beneath. And I quite like that I was the one to help change all that.”

“That you did,” she admitted, circling her arms around his waist and looking at him adoringly. “Now I believe, enough talking has been had, dear husband.”

His smile lit up his whole face. “Of course, dear wife, what else would we possibly do to occupy ourselves?”

Emma bit her lip and shrugged, “I’m sure we can think of something…”

 

**THE END**

  
  


**A/N Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and been so patient while I battles with writers block. A special thank you to my beta Jenni who helped so much with this and made sure it was finally finished, you rock!!!**

***PS - reviews are my ambrosia!**

**Author's Note:**

> A short little multi-chapter fic to while away those dark winter nights - and I can't resist me some Lieutenant Duckling. Please let me know what you think.


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